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i').' CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Two Young Girls .. . . i. i. . . i 

11 . The Fire-Bird . . . . 15 

III. A Queer Spring Suit ........ 28 

IV. A Day of Dangers 38 

V. The Police Patrol 53 

VI. A Ride and its Consequences 66 

VII. Tavia’s Danger 78 

VIII. An Inverted Joke 88 

IX. Committee of Arrangements . •. . .. . 95 

X. A Lawn Party “ With Boys ! ” 107 

XI. Off for Glenwood 120 

XII. Viola’s Mother 128 

XIII. The Category 136 

XIV. The Initiation 144 

XV. Lost on Mount Gabriel 152 

XVI. What Viola did 158 

169 


XVII. The Strike of the Rebs 
XVIIL Dorothy’s Sacrifice . . 


177 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. The Tangled Web .... .• i.- v 189 

XX. Suspicions . . 194 

XXI. Sunshine again 202 

XXII. Miss Crane and Viola 207 

XXIIL The real Story .. . ... ... . c.. ... .. . 214 


DOROTHY DALE 
AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL 


CHAPTER I 

TWO YOUNG GIRLS 

“ And you are quite sure, daddy, I am not 
dreaming? That I am sitting right here with my 
arms around your neck, and you have just told 
me it is all perfectly true?” And, to make still 
more certain that the whole matter was one of 
unquestionable reality, the girl gave her parent 
such a flesh and blood hug that a physical answer 
came to her question in the shape of a protest from 
the very wideawake man. 

“ Now, see here. Little Captain,” he remarked, 
“ it is all very well to make sure we are not dream- 
ing, and that all the good news is real, but please 
remember I have put on a clean collar and — 
your tactics are quite military. You are ac- 

quiring muscle.” 

Major Dale kissed his daughter fondly as she 


2 


DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


relinquished her hold on him, and smoothed back 
a stray lock of his silvery hair. 

“ Tm so glad for you, daddy,’’ she went on. 
“ You do so need a real rest, and now we will not 
have to plan every day what we may spend to- 
morrow. I fancy I will still keep the note-book 
going with pounds and prices of things, and an 
occasional orange, and even some foreign fruit 
now and then. Dear me! I feel the good of 
that money already. We can have so many luxu- 
ries — no more scrimping and patching — ” 

“ But, daughter dear,” interrupted the major, 
“ you must not imagine that mere money can bring 
happiness. It depends entirely upon the proper 
use of that commodity — we must always exercise 
good judgment, whether one dollar or one hundred 
dollars are involved.” 

“ Oh, of course, I know we are not so very 
rich, we cannot just exactly live sumptuously, but 
we may live comfortably. And really, daddy, 
now that it is over, I may as well own up, I have 
longed with the longest kind of longing for a 
brand-new hat. May I really have one? Rib- 
bons and all? ” 

“ Two, one for Sunday and one for every day,” 
promptly responded the major, laughing. “ But 
your hats always look new — ” 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


3 


They do say I have talent for hats, and that 
one must have originality to trim and keep old 
head-gear up to date. So, daddy dear, perhaps, 
some day, that hint of talent may develop — I 
may be an artist or something. Then I will bless 
the days when I had to make over hats to discover 
myself,” and Dorothy promptly clapped upon her 
blond head such a confusion of straw and flowers, 
to say nothing of the dangling blue ribbons, that 
even the major, with his limited appreciation of 
“ keeping old head-gear up-to-date ” was forced 
to acknowledge that his daughter did know how: 
to trim a hat. 

“When will the money come?” she asked, 
tilting her head to one side to get a look in the 
small oval mirror, that was sufficiently large for 
the major’s neckties, but was plainly too short for 
hats. 

“We won’t get it by the pound, like butter, you 
know, daughter. Nor is it a matter of so many 
blank checks to be filled out as we progress with 
penmanship — like copy-book work. As a matter 
of fact, I have just received the legal information 
that my dear old soldier uncle Ned — otherwise 
known as Captain Edward Dale on the retired 
list, resident of India, subject of Great Britain, 
has answered the last roll call — and left what 


4 


DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


he had to me. Uncle Ned was the hero of our 
family, daughter dear, and some day I will tell 
you why you are my Little Captain — his own suc- 
cessor,” and the major laid his hand upon Doro- 
thy’s shoulder in a way he had of making a prom- 
ise that he intended to keep. 

A commotion on the side porch interrupted their 
confidences, and the major took advantage of it 
to make his escape. He kissed Dorothy good- 
bye, and left her to the “ commotion ” that pres- 
ently made its way in at the door in the shape of 
Tavia Travers, Dorothy’s warmest friend in every 
thing. 

“ Hurrah for the good news! ” shouted Tavia, 
flinging her sailor hat up to the ceiling and catch- 
ing it as promptly. 

“Three cheers for the money, 

When will it come? 

Give a feller some 
Tiddle-umtum-tum 
I have to say bunny, 

To make a rhyme with money! ” 

And Tavia swung around like a pin-wheel to 
bring her “ verse ” to an effective full stop — a 
way she had of punctuating her impromptu pro- 
ductions. 

Dorothy made a comical “ squat ” to add more 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


5 


finish, and then the two girls, feeling better for 
having opened the safety valve of physical exer- 
tion to “ let ojfl ” mental exuberance, sat down to 
talk it over quietly. 

“ Are you perfectly positive, certain, sure, that 
it’s just you, Dorothy Dale, and no fairy or mer- 
maid,” began Tavia, settling herself among the 
cushions on Major Dale’s sofa. “ Of all the 
delicious, delectable things! To have a rich, old 
uncle die ’way off in India, where you don’t even 
have to make your nose red at his funeral. And 
to leave you a million dollars — ” 

“ Oh, not quite a million,” interrupted Dorothy. 
“ Something considerable less than that, I believe.” 

“ But it’s all kinds of money I know,” went 
on the other. “ Dear me 1 I do wish some kind 
of money would run in our family even with red 
noses thrown in. But no such luck! When we 
have a funeral we always have to pay for the 
coach.” 

“Tavia Travers! How dare you talk so, of 
such serious things ! ” 

“ How else would you have me talk of serious 
things? The most serious thing in my life is 
money — its scarcity. Funerals, of course, take 
time, and are unpleasant in many respects, but, 
for right at home trouble, it’s money.” 


6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ It is nice to think that the dear old captain 
should be so good to father,” said Dorothy. 

‘‘ Father was always his favorite relative, and he 
particularly liked him on account of his military: 
honors.” 

“ Well, he ought to, of course,” put in Tavia, 
“ for your father keeps the name Dale up for 
military honors. But what in the world are you 
going to do with all the money ? Don’t, for good- 
ness’ sake, go away for your health, and other 
things, and leave poor me to die here without 
nobody nor nuthin’,” and the girl burst into make- 
believe tears. 

“ Indeed,” said Dorothy. “ We can enjoy the 
good fortune in no place better than in dear old 
Dalton, and among our own good friends,” and 
she put her arms affectionately about Tavia. 
“ But one thing has been definitely decided 
upon — ” 

“ You are going to buy the Harvy mansion? ” 
No, a new hat. Father has just this minute 
given his consent.” 

“ Make it a tiara and save the expense of hat- 
pins,” suggested Tavia. 

“ No, I have a hankering for a Gainsborough, 
the kind the lady hanging over Aunt Winnie’s 
stairs wears — the picture queen, you know.” 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


7 


“ Oh, yes, she looks very nice in a picture over 
the stairs,” remarked Tavia, “ but my advice to 
you would be to wear elastic under your chin with 
a thing like that — or else try Gulliver’s Glue. 
One breeze of the Dalton kind would be enough 
for a Gainsborough.” 

“ You shall help me pick it out,” agreed Doro- 
thy. “ In the meantime don’t sit on the only one 
I have. I just left it on the sofa as you came 
in — ” 

“ And if it isn’t the dearest, sweetest thing 
now,” exclaimed Tavia, rescuing the mass of per- 
ishables she had unwittingly pressed into some- 
thing like a funeral piece. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Dorothy. “ I did like that 
hat!” 

“ And so did 1 1 ” declared Tavia. “ That hat 
was a stunner, and I deeply regret it’s untimely 
taking away — it went to pieces without a groan. 
That comes of having a real Leghorn. I could 
sit all over my poor straw pancake and it would 
not as much as bend — couldn’t. It would have 
no place to bend to.” 

“ You could never wear anything that would 
become you more than a simple sailor,” said Dor- 
othy, with the air of one in authority, and if I 
had your short locks I would just sport a jaunty 


8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


little felt sailor all summer. But with my 
head—” 

‘‘ Jaunty doesn’t go. I quite agree with you, 
picture lady, your head is cut out for picture hats. 
Another positive evidence of money running in 
your family — my head was cut out for an eco- 
nomical pattern — lucky thing for me ! ” and 
Tavia clapped her aforesaid sailor on her bronze 
head at a decidely rakish angle, while Dorothy 
busied herself with a thorough investigation of the 
wreck of her own headpiece. 

As told in “ Dorothy Dale : A Girl of To-Day,” 
the first book of this series, these two girls, Doro- 
thy Dale and Octavia Travers, were school 
friends, home friends and all kinds of friends, 
both about the same age, and both living in a little 
interesting town called Dalton, in New York 
state. Dorothy was the daughter of Major Dale, 
a prominent citizen of the place, while Tavia’s 
father was Squire Travers, a man who was largely 
indebted to Dorothy for the office he held, inas- 
much as she had managed, in a girl’s way, to bring 
about his election. 

Tavia had a brother Johnnie, quite an ordinary 
boy, while Dorothy had two brothers, Joe, aged 
nine and Roger, aged seven years. 

There was one other member of the Dale house- 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


9 


hold, Mrs. Martin, the housekeeper, who had 
cared for the children since their mother had been 
called away. She was that sort of responsible 
aged woman who seems to grow more and more 
particular with years, and perhaps her only fault, 
if it might be termed such, was her excessive care 
of Roger — her baby, she insisted, — for to her his 
seven years by no means constituted a length of 
time sufficient to make a boy of him. The chil- 
dren called Mrs. Martin, Aunt Libby, and to them 
she was indeed as kind and loving as any aunt 
could be. 

Dorothy had an aunt, Mrs. Winthrop White, 
of North Birchland in summer, and of the city in 
winter, a woman of social importance, as well as 
being a most lovable and charming lady personally. 
A visit of Dorothy and Tavia to the Cedars, Mrs. 
White’s country place, as related in “ Dorothy 
Dale,” was full of incidents, and in the present 
volume we shall become still better acquainted with 
the family, which included Mrs. White’s two sons, 
Ned and Nat, both young men well worth know- 
ing. 

Dorothy and Tavia might well rejoice in the 
good news that the major had so lately been in- 
formed of, for the acquirement of means to Dor- 
othy would undoubtedly bring good times to 


lo DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


Tavia, and both deserved the prospects of sun- 
shine and laughter, for alas — in all lives, even 
those scarcely old enough to take upon their 
shoulders the burden of cares, there comes some 
blot to mar the page: some speck to break the 
glorious blue of the noonday sky. 

Dorothy Dale was not without her sorrow. A 
wicked man, Andrew Anderson by name, had 
come into her life in a mysterious way. Dorothy 
had befriended, and in her own way, helped back 
to a day of happiness an unfortunate man. Miles 
Burlock. This man had for years been in the 
strange power of Anderson, but before it was too 
late Dorothy had helped Burlock break the chains 
of strong drink that seemed to have bound him to 
the evil companion, and for this interference she 
had suffered — she was now the object of Ander- 
son’s hatred. Anderson was after the money that 
Miles Burlock had to leave at his death, but Dor- 
othy and her father saved this for its rightful 
owner, a little daughter of Miles Burlock, who had 
for some years been kept away from her own fa- 
ther by Anderson. 

The child, now an orphan, came into the care of 
Major Dale, her legal guardian and so Anderson 
had new cause for his hatred for Dorothy — the 
money and child having both been put out of his 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


II 


reach. So this was Dorothy’s sorrow: she had 
been persecuted because of her goodness. 

No one who knew Tavia Travers would have 
considered her capable of worry. She was as light- 
hearted as air, with a great faculty for mischief 
and a “ hankering ” for fun. But she did have a 
worry, a fear that some day Dorothy Dale might 
pass out of her life and end the attachment that 
came in childhood and waxed strong with girlhood. 
Dorothy was what might be considered a girl of 
the aristocratic class, while Tavia belonged to those 
who consider it a privilege to work for a living and 
have a keen appreciation of the opportunity — as 
Squire Travers proved when he turned in to show 
himself the best official, in the capacity of squire, 
of which Dalton ever boasted. 

Now a new danger threatened Tavia: Dorothy 
would be almost rich. Would that help to break 
the ties of love and friendship between the girls? 

Not that Dorothy could ever change in her sin- 
cere love for Tavia, but might not circumstances 
separate them, and then — ? 

Tavia had been first to congratulate Dorothy 
on the good news and the smashed hat had fur- 
nished an incident sufficiently distracting to keep 
Tavia from the lamentations that at first filled her 
heart. Hence it has been necessary to take the 


12 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


reader through her sentiments in a very much less 
interesting way than Tavia herself would have dis- 
closed them. She had a way of saying and doing 
things that was inimitable, and amusing, if not en- 
tirely elevating. 

“Then you think you will stay in Dalton?” 
asked Tavia, finally, as Dorothy succeeded in pull- 
ing the smashed hat back into some kind of shape, 
if not the right kind. 

“ Why not? ” asked Dorothy. “ Are there not 
plenty of good people in Dalton? ” 

“ Oh, a few, perhaps. There’s me and Johnnie 
— but we are not ‘ out ’ yet, and you will be look- 
ing for society friends. Well, here’s good luck to 
you with your Indian millions, and don’t forget 
that in your poorest days I used to lend you chew- 
ing gum,” and at this Tavia threw her arms around 
Dorothy in a warm embrace, as if striving to hold 
to her heart and keep in her life the same old 
darling Dorothy — in spite of the new circum- 
stances. 

“ Say, Sis ! ” exclaimed Dorothy. “ Do you 
realize that this is the very day you are to go for 
an automobile ride with Nat White? ” 

“ And that you are to go in the same machine 
with Ned White? Course I do, you selfish girl. 
So taken up with common money that you never 


TWO YOUNG GIRLS 


13 


noticed my get-up. Look at this,” and Tavia 
drew from the folds of her skirt a cloud of some- 
thing. “ Automobile veil,” she explained, giving 
the flimsy stuff a turn that sent it floating through 
the air like a cloud of smoke. 

“ Splendid!” declared Dorothy. 

“ Gloriotious 1 ” remarked Tavia, “the real 
thing. I found it in an old trunk among dear old 
grandma Travers’ things, and grandma loved it 
dearly. I persuaded mother to let me inherit it, 
and smell,” putting the gray cloud of silk to Dor- 
othy’s face, “ that perfume is lavender. Grandma 
always used it.” 

“ What a dear old lady she must have been,” 
said Dorothy, looking over the dainty article crit- 
ically. “ You are not really going to wear it,” she 
faltered, realizing the value of such an heirloom. 

“ No, I am not, but — you are! There, Doro, 
darling, it is a gift for you from — me. You will 
always keep it and — love it — ” 

“ Indeed I will do no such thing as to take your 
dear grandma’s things. You must always keep 
this yourself — ” 

“ But I want you to, Doro. It will make me 
happy to know I have given you something good — 
something I have loved, and something you will 
love for me. There,” and she put the scarf over 


14 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


Dorothy’s blond head, “ you look like an angel. 
Grandma herself will be proud all the way from 
heaven, to see this fall upon the shoulders of one 
so worthy in face and in heart,” and the two stood 
there clasped in each other’s arms, the silvery veil 
of love falling about the shoulders of both, and 
binding “ all the way to heaven,” in its folds of 
sweetest lavender the hearts of two young girls. 


CHAPTER II 


THE FIRE BIRD 

Outside sounded the strident “ honk-honk ” of 
an automobile horn, followed by a series of explo- 
sions, like a Gatling gun in full operation, as Ned 
cut out the muffler, threw off the clutch, and 
brought the machine to a stop at the door. More 
“ honk-honks ” called Dorothy out to welcome her 
cousins, and presently Ned and Nat, and Dorothy 
and Tavia were chatting merrily on the porch, as 
the big machine puffed and “ gasped ” after its 
long run from North Birchland to Dalton. 

“ We will go right off,” insisted Dorothy, “ so 
as to get all the ride we can, it is such a beautiful 
day. I only have to grab up the lunch basket, and 
Tavia is all ready — has been waiting in fact,” as 
Tavia readjusted her “ sailor,” and endeavored to 
look spick and span, as she had looked before the 
series of embraces and other disturbing activities 
upset her rather perishable toilette — nothing 
wrinkles like freshly-ironed gingham. 

** Just a drink of cold water, lady,” begged Ned, 
“ before we start again. My throat is macadam- 
15 


i6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


ized, my eyes are veritable kaleidoscopes, and I feel 
like a mummy generally.” 

“ Why, of course,” apologized Dorothy, “ you 
must want a rest after that long dusty ride. Come 
into the sitting room, and we will try to refresh 
you.” 

“ Just plain water, please,” insisted Ned, “ and 
then we will start off.” 

Tavia lost no time in bringing a pail of fresh 
water — Nat doing the bringing, while Tavia 
smiled approval and encouragement; it is a matter 
of such importance to carry the pail just so, when 
one really wants a perfectly fresh drink and not a 
glass of bubbles, and Nat was seemingly so anxious 
to learn all about well water — all that Tavia could 
tell him. 

“ Come on,” called Ned, impatiently from the 
side window. “We want the water in time to get 
away before nightfall. Must be lovely to go fish- 
ing for water in a pail like Simple Simon. Nat, 
you can talk to Tavia indefinitely after we have 
slaked our ‘ Fire-Bird ’ thirst.” 

Tavia blushed prettily at the good-natured re- 
buke, and Dorothy playfully shook her finger at 
the tardy one, who seemed to have forgotten all 
about Ned wishing a drink. 

Finally the boys were satisfied that Dalton wells 


THE FIRE BIRD 


17 


did justice to their reputation, and so the “ Fire- 
Bird ” was made ready for the day’s run. 

“ I am so glad,” commented Dorothy, “ that Joe 
and Roger are not around, it would be hard to go 
off and leave them.” 

“ Plenty of time for little boys,” remarked Nat, 
turning on the gasoline, then shoving the spark 
lever over, all ready to crank up. 

Tavla had taken her place in front, as Nat was 
to drive the car, while Dorothy was on the leather 
cushions In the tonneau, where Ned would Interest 
her with talk of school and other topics which the 
two cousins held In common. 

Presently Nat cranked up, swung himself Into 
the car and the Fire-Bird “ grunted off ” lazy 
enough at first, but soon Increasing to a swift run 
through the streets of Dalton. 

“Isn’t It splendid!” Tavia could not refrain 
from exclaiming enthusiastically. 

“Yes,” answered Nat, “but I believe there is 
something in swift motion that unbalances human 
equilibrium. The madness of motoring would 
make a study. Dorothy would be proud of me 
could she hear me talk so learnedly,” he said, smil- 
ing at his own seriousness, “ but I do really believe 
half of the unaccountable accidents might be traced 
to the speed-madness.” 


1 8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


“ It does feel dreadfully reckless,” said Tavia, 
realizing something of the power of speed, and tak- 
ing off her sailor hat before the straw piece made 
away on its own account. “ I think it would be 
just like flying to be in a real race.” 

“ Not for mine,” answered the practical Nat. 
“ I like some kinds of a good time, but I have too 
much regard for the insurance company that saw; 
fit to give me their ‘ promise to pay,’ to trust my 
bones to the intelligence of a machine let loose. 
There is something so uncanny about a broken 
neck.” 

A toot of the horn warned passersby that the 
Fire-Bird was about to make a turn. Tavia bowed 
to those on the walk. Nat touched his cap. 

“Who’s the pretty one?” he asked, looking 
back, just a bit rudely, at Tavia’s friends. 

“ Alice MacAllister, the nicest girl in Dalton, ex- 
cept — ” 

“ Tavia Travers,” finished Nat, politely. 
“ Well, she does look nice. Better get up a lawn 
party or something and invite her, and incidentally 
ask Nat White.” 

Dorothy leaned forward to whisper to Tavia 
that Alice was going out Dighton way to play ten- 
nis, that Alice had told her she expected to win a 
trophy and this was the game to decide the series. 


THE FIRE BIRD 


19 


Alice certainly looked capable of winning most 
anything, she was such an athletic girl, the kind 
called “ tailor made,” without being coarse or man- 
nish. 

Then the Fire-Bird flew on. Out over the hill 
that hid Dalton from its pretty suburbs, and then 
down into the glen that nestled so cozily in its 
fringe of pines and cedars. Nat slackened speed to 
allow the party full enjoyment of the shady road, 
and this gave all an opportunity of entering into 
lively conversation. 

The boys wanted to know all about the mysteri- 
ous man Anderson, who had been lodged in jail. 
As Dorothy and Tavia had played rather a con- 
spicuous part in the man’s capture, and all this had 
happened since the girls had been out to the Cedars, 
on their visit, naturally Ned and Nat were inter- 
ested in the sensational news. 

“ I’m glad he’s safe out of your reach, Doro,” 
said Ned, “ for you never seemed to know when or 
where he would turn up.” 

“Yes,” put in Tavia, “Doro has actually 
gained flesh since we landed him. He was such a 
nuisance. Had no regard for persons or places.” 

“ And how about the news from India ? ” asked 
Ned. “ I suppose the major will sell out in Dal- 
ton and move to better accommodations now. Not 


20 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


but what Dalton is a first-rate place,” seeing the 
look of reproach on Dorothy’s face at the idea of 
anyone uttering a word against her beloved town, 
“ but you know there are little conveniences in 
other places, postmen for Instance, and well — 
something called society, you know.” 

“ We have no thought of going away,” answered 
Dorothy. “ Father says the money is just enough 
to make us comfortable and there is plenty of com- 
fort to be bought In Dalton.” 

“ And some given away,” ventured Nat, with an 
arch glance at Tavia. 

“Which way shall we go?” asked Nat, as a 
forking of the road made a choice necessary. 

“ Through the glen,” suggested Dorothy, “ there 
is such a pretty spot there where we can lunch.” 

“ Which spot? ” asked Tavia, “ I thought this 
was all road with deep gutters at the side, running 
down to the river over the hill.” 

“ I am quite sure this is the road father took us 
out to picnic on,” said Dorothy with some hesita- 
tion. 

“ Well, maybe,” said Tavia, “ but I think this 
is the old river road. It seems to me I have been 
out this way before, and never even found a place 
to gather wild flowers, all road and gutters, then 
a big bank to the river.” 


THE FIRE BIRD 


21 


“ Let’s try it anyhow,” decided Nat. “ It looks 
nice and shady.” 

So the turn was made to the left, and presently 
another turn rounded, then another, until both 
Tavia and Dorothy lost all sense of the location. 

“We will wind up somewhere,” declared Nat, 
when the girls protested they would be lost if the 
machine were not turned around, and brought back 
to the river road. 

“ This is such a tangle of a place,” insisted Dor- 
othy, “ and we really might not meet a person to 
direct us.” 

“ Then we will keep right on, and run into the 
next state,” joked Nat, to whom being lost was fun, 
and having an adventure the best part of a ride. 

For some time the Fire-Bird flew along, the beau- 
tiful August day adding a wonderful charm to the 
tender shade of the oaks that lined the road, and 
through which just enough sunshine peeped to 
temper the balmy shadows. 

“ I am hungry. It must be lunch time,” said 
Dorothy, as they reached a pretty spot, “ let’s stop 
here and eat.” 

“ Let’s,” agreed Nat, slowing up the ma- 
chine. 

“ What do you suppose this road is for? ” asked 
Ned, as neither the rumble of a wagon wheel nor 


22 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


any other sound broke the stillness that surrounded 
the party. 

“ For instance,” suggested Tavia. 

“ Or for maps,” said Ned. 

“ For automobile parties,” declared Dorothy. 

For yours truly,” finished Nat, stretching him- 
self on the soft sod, that came down to the road 
as beautifully as if it had been made to order on 
a well-kept terrace. 

The girls soon had the lunch cloth spread and 
the basket was then produced — or rather its con- 
tents were brought forth. 

“ Yum, yum,” exclaimed Nat, smacking his lips 
as Dorothy began placing the eatables on the cloth. 

“ Oh, but water,” sighed Tavia. “ We were to 
get some as we came in the woods. There is a fine 
spring there.” 

“ Two miles back,” announced Nat. 

“ But there must be one near here,” declared 
Tavia, “ for there are forget-me-nots in this grass.” 

“ Is that a sign of water? ” asked Ned. 

“ Positive — sure sign,” replied Tavia. “ Let’s 
hunt for the spring.” 

“ Too early,” answered Nat, “ against the game 
laws. Can’t hunt for two whole months yet. 
Worse luck.” 

“Well, look for the spring then,” Tavia 



THE CONTENTS OF THE BASKET WEKE BROUGHT FORTH — PagC 22 




u- ■ T., 

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THE FIRE BIRD 


23 


corrected herself. “ I fancy I smell water- 
cress — ” 

“ Well, of all the fanciers, — first bluebells 
mean spring water, then gasoline from our own 
tank smells like watercress. Now, Octavia Trav- 
ers, I’ll go you,” said Nat. ‘‘ Come and find 
spring water, bunches of watercress and a salt 
spring to go with the cress, or you will — walk 
home.” 

Tavia answered the challenge by skipping along 
through the grassy track, with Nat dragging lazily 
along at her heels. 

Don’t get lost,” cautioned Dorothy. 

“ And don’t expect us to watch this food all 
afternoon,” said Ned, as the two disappeared over 
a bank on the still hunt ” for water and per- 
haps watercress. 

“ Tavia knows everything that grows,” re- 
marked Dorothy to her cousin, “ I think it is so 
interesting to have a practical knowledge of na- 
ture.” 

“ And quite convenient when it comes to lemon- 
ade with water,” answered the boy. “ It’s queer 
Nat is like that too. He always knows things 
about things when things are shy for a feed. 
Likely he’ll bring back a small-sized patch of the 
vegetable kingdom.” 


24 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOQD 


Meanwhile the explorers were making discov- 
eries at every glade. 

“ There,” called Tavia, triumphantly, “ that’s 
a spring. But the announcement came a second 
too late to save Nat from a foot bath. 

“ So I have noticed,” he declared, trying to 
shake some of the cold water out of his low cut 
shoes. 

“ Oh, that’s too bad,” Tavia managed to say, 
although her joy at finding the spring made any 
regret at the method of its discovery quite out of 
the question. Being careful of her own footing 
she made her way along, until the stone basin at 
the spring source came into view. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” she shouted. “And 
there is the watercress ! ” 

She was on her knees now, leaning over like the 
goddess who saw her face reflected in the water. 
Tavia knew the peculiarities of a spring, and 
knew how to avoid the common penalty of 
wet feet when getting either cress or a drink “ by 
hand.” 

“ Let me,” asked Nat, gallantly, as he saw her 
stooping over the brink. 

“ I do want some of the cress,” she said. 

“ So do I,” declared the knight. But alas; as 


THE FIRE BIRD 


25 


he stepped to the brink he went down — down — 
down — 

“ Help ! ” he shouted, merrily, in spite of the 
second foot bath within a few minutes. 

But Nat kept on sinking, until what seemed like 
a joke soon assumed a serious aspect. 

“ Give us a hand,” he called to Tavia. “ I 
must have struck quick-sand.” 

Tavia ran to the side of the pool where the boy 
was imbedded. He had jumped right in, instead 
of feeling his way as Tavia had, to make sure of 
his ground. 

“ Take my hand,” said the girl anxiously, but 
the effort necessary in reaching toward her only 
served to make the unfortunate youth sink farther 
down. 

“ I guess you’ll have to go for help,” he ad- 
mitted finally, the danger of the situation forcing 
itself upon him. 

“ But suppose you should go under while I am 
gone?” faltered Tavia. 

“ Just pull that tree branch over to me,” said 
Nat, “ and I’ll cling to that. This must be a glue 
spring. My, but it has a grip! There goes my 
shoe.” 

“ I’ll run for Ned,” cried Tavia, after she had 


26 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


given the boy in the pool a hold on the tree branch, 
and then she shot across the fields like a deer, leav- 
ing Nat to “ say his prayers,” as he described the 
situation. 

It seemed a long time to the imprisoned boy, 
but as a matter of fact, Tavia was back very soon 
with “ reinforcements.” 

Besides Dorothy and Ned, there came to the 
rescue a woman, who just happened by and heard 
of the danger. She knew the spring, and, deposit- 
ing her basket of eggs in a safe place, pulled a 
fence rail from its post, and with Ned holding one 
end hurried on to the spring. By this time Nat 
was almost exhausted, for though it was an August 
day, standing to the waist in cold spring water was 
not an enjoyable position. 

“ I found the spring,” he tried to joke, as the 
others came up to him. 

“ So we see,” drawled Ned. 

“ Here,” called the strange woman, who evi- 
dently knew exactly what to do. “ Young man, 
you take this end of the rail to the other side. I’ll 
hold my end here, and the boy can pull out across 
it.” 

Dorothy and Tavia looked on anxiously. They 
had heard of persons being swallowed up in quick- 
sands. Might not this be such a danger? 


THE FIRE BIRD 


27 


The pool was uncomfortably wide just where 
Nat chose to try its depth, so that it was difficult to 
span it with the fence rail. 

“ Easy now,” called the little woman in the big 
sunbonnet. “ Take hold first, then draw yourself 
up.” 

Nat was only too anxious to do as he was told. 
It did seem so good to have something solid within 
reach once more. 

But tug as he would, he could not extricate his 
feet. 

“ Guess some Chinaman has a hold of me,” he 
said, trying to make the best of his predicament. 

“ Wait a minute,” called the farm woman. 
“ There, now, you take the rail to the top of the 
spring and get down on it. Then you (to Nat)' 
swing right up on it — now there, you’ve got it! 
Hold tight. Come here young girls. Quick I 
Pull ! Pull I Altogether I There you are ! ” and, 
at that moment, a very muddy form was dragged 
from the spring. Nat was on dry land again. 


CHAPTER III 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT, 

“ Don’t stop to talk unless you want to get the 
chills from that spring,” urged the little country 
woman in the big sonbonnet, “ but just chase across 
thai field as fast as you can. If we are not on the 
road when you get there, keep right on running. 
It’s the only thing. Then I’ll see what I can do 
for you in the line of clothes. Sam hasn’t got 
much, but they’re clean.” 

Nat stood shivering. The mud had relieved 
him of both shoes. 

“ Run along,” ordered the woman, “ I tell you 
I know all about the kind of chills that come from 
that spring water. Why, we don’t even eat the 
watercress out of it this summer, so many folks 
that did eat it were taken down. My son Sam 
had a spell. The doctor stuck to it it was swim- 
min’ but I knowed better; it was eatin’ that poison 
watercress.” 

By this time Nat had followed directions and 
was going across the fields as fast as his uncom- 

28 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT 


29 


fortable legs would carry him. Tavia was run- 
ning also; she felt it was her duty to stick by Nat, 
and get to the road with him, in case he should 
need any help. 

Dorothy could not hide her dismay. Nat might 
get cold, he certainly had spoiled some good 
clothes, and the automobile ride would not be as 
pleasant now. How could it be with such a soaked 
boy at the wheel? And he was sure to stick to 
his post. 

“Isn’t it awful!” Dorothy remarked to Ned, 
as they hurried along after Nat and Tavia, while 
the country woman jogged on ahead of them. 

“ Nothing of the sort,” he contradicted her. 
“ It will add to his general knowledge, and what 
an experience it will be when it is handed out to 
the fellows I Nat frequently has a way of making 
narrow escapes. Chances are, some subterranean 
monster held him down in that spring. Oh, that 
accident will just be pie for Nat,” and his brother 
laughed at the possible story Nat would concoct 
about his spring bath. 

Breaking through the clump of bushes that di- 
vided the field from the road Nat and Tavia could 
be seen racing up and down like a pair in “ train- 
ing.” 

“ That’s right ” called the woman, “ just cut 


30 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


across there to that house. Til be there almost as 
soon as you.” 

And in truth the farm woman was “ no slouch,” 
as Ned expressed it, for she tramped along at such 
an even pace that Dorothy found it difficult to keep 
up with her on the rough roads. 

The farm house was of the typical old-fashioned 
kind; long and narrow, like a train of cars side- 
tracked, Ned thought. Vines that had become 
tired creeping clung tenaciously to window sills 
and broken porch rails, while clumsy old apple 
trees leaned lazily toward the stone house, al- 
though they were expected to keep their place, and 
outline a walk to the garden. 

“ Come right in the kitchen,” invited the little 
woman. ‘‘ I’ll go upstairs and get the clothes, 
and then the young man can wash up a bit. 
Sam always keeps plenty of clean water in his 
room in summer time — ain’t so pertic’lar about it 
in winter.” 

Nat hesitated on the door sill. Although the 
place presented that crowded and almost untidy 
scene, so common to back doors in the country, the 
room within was clean and orderly, and Nat had 
no idea of carrying his mud through the apart- 
ment. 

Tavia, seeing his predicament, promptly found 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT 


31 


the broom and began such a vigorous scraping of 
the muddy clothes that Nat backed down to a 
bench and fell over it. 

“ There,” exclaimed Tavia, “ no more will 
come off, I’m sure.” 

“ So am I,” gasped Nat. “ I wonder — well, 
never mind, you brushed me all right. If ever 
you want work just let me know.” 

The woman, who had introduced herself as 
Mrs. Hardy, was at the door now, and ordered 
Nat to come in at once. 

“ For clothes,” she began, “ I left out Sam’s 
brand new pair of overalls. They hain’t never 
been on him, and I thought they’d be better than 
anything else for summer. Then there’s a clean 
soft shirt, and you won’t need no coat, as it’s a 
sight too warm to-day for coats. Them sneak 
shoes Sam only bought Saturday night. He likes 
to wear them to picnics, and there’s to be one to- 
morrow evenin’.” 

Nat seemed unable to thank the woman. He 
really felt so miserable, physically, and so con- 
fused mentally, that his usual ready wit forsook 
him. But Dorothy could have hugged that dear 
little woman who was so kind and thoughtful. 
Ned was out in the motor car, so Dorothy was the 
one in “ authority.” 


32 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ You are so kind,” she faltered to Mrs. Hardy, 
as Nat’s muddy heels lost themselves from view up 
the box stairs. “ I’m sure we cannot thank you 
enough.” 

“ Tut, tut,” interrupted the woman, busying 
herself at once about the little cook stove. “If 
the same thing happened to my Sam I know you’d 
do as much for him. He’ll be In to dinner. 
Maybe you’ll see him. I am proud of Sam. 
He’s all I’ve got, of course, that makes some dif- 
ference.” 

Ned now brought the machine up to the front 
of the house. He blew the horn to attract atten- 
tion and Tavla ran out. 

“ Of all the luck,” he stammered, trying to 
talk and laugh at the same time, “ every scrap of 
our lunch Is gone. Dogs, chickens, and maybe a 
boy or two took it. At any rate, they did not 
leave as much as the basket.” 

“ Oh,” gasped Tavla. “ Isn’t that mean I ” 

“ Rather,” answered the boy. “ But perhaps 
we can get some crackers and milk here. I feel 
that the pangs of hunger will do something des- 
perate presently. Nat, I suppose, will get a warm 
drink, and no doubt something to make him strong 
— homemade bread is the usual, I think. But I 
may starve,” and he looked truly mournful — din- 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT 


33 


ner hour was “ flush ” as he expressed it, meaning 
that the time had come to eat, as both hour and 
minute hand were hugging twelve, whistles blow- 
ing and a distant bell sounding, all of which indi- 
cated meal time was “ flush.” 

“What’s the matter?” asked Dorothy, coming 
around the house. 

“ The commissary department has been looted,’^ 
said Ned. “ In other words, our grub is gone.” 

“ Gone ! ” echoed Dorothy, incredulously. 

“ The very gonest gone you ever saw. Not so 
much as a toothpick left.” 

“ What shall we do,” sighed the girl, who had 
put up such a tempting lunch, and had even partly 
spread it out on the paper-cloth in that “ safe ” 
place under the tree. 

“ Victuals gone? ” asked Mrs. Hardy, from the 
side window. “ I might have told you as much, 
only for hurryin’ to get them wet clothes off that 
boy. Why, our hounds would steal the eggs from 
the nests, worst thieves I ever saw. Well, never 
mind. When I get Sam back to the hayfield I’ll 
do what I can for you. But he has to be quick, 
for it’s all cut and there’s no telling when a thun- 
der storm ’ll come up.” 

“ Oh, we wouldn’t think of troubling you so 
much,” demurred Dorothy. 


34 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ Is there any store around? ” asked Ned, sig- 
nificantly. 

“ One a mile off that has not a morsel fit to eat in 
it. I’d as soon swallow poison as eat anything out 
of that place. Here, young girl (to Tavia), you 
run down to the dairy there, the door is unlocked, 
and bring up a pail of milk that’s on the bench un- 
der the window. I’ll give you a couple of glasses 
and you can help yourselves until Sam gets done.” 

Tavia hurried off, willing enough to fetch the 
milk, and before she reached the door on her re- 
turn trip — there was Nat! 

Nobody dared to laugh. What might Mrs. 
Hardy think? 

But Nat in overalls! And a dark blue shirt! 
And the yellow sneaks ! 

“ Splendid,” declared Dorothy, feeling the ab- 
solute necessity of saying something grateful. 

“ I feel like a new man,” said Nat. 

“ Bet you do now,” spoke Mrs. Hardy, looking 
him over approvingly. “ Nothing like clean 
clothes, and them is becoming.” 

Nat went near her so he could carry on conver- 
sation without delaying the dinner preparations. 

“ That spring suit,” he said laughing, “ I’ll just 
throw down on the rubbish heap. The clothes are 
so covered with mud, I am sure they never could 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT 


35 


be cleaned, and If Sam will have time to get In 
town before the picnic perhaps he can sell me these 
things. Or, if not. I’ll buy whatever he wants 
and send them out.” 

“ Well, he won’t need the overalls till next 
week,” answered the mother. 

“ Then I can buy them? ” asked Nat. 

“ And the shoes — ” 

“ I’ll have a pair sent out directly I reach town. 
I’ll see that they come special so there will be no 
mistake.” 

“ And the shirt — you are welcome to that.” 

“ Now then,” said Nat, “ here’s five dollars, 
whatever will be over the price of the clothes I am 
sure I owe you — ” 

“ Five dollars ! ” exclaimed the woman with 
genuine surprise. Why, bless you boy, that 
would buy my Sam a full, whole winter suit.” 

“ Get him one, then,” Insisted Nat. “ I would 
be glad to help him, as he certainly has helped me 
greatly. Just surprise him with a new suit for the 
picnic. We’ll be off as soon as I get my share of 
that milk. If they have left me any, then he will 
know nothing of the accident. You can give him 
a complete surprise,” seeing the look of delight on 
the poor woman’s face. 

“ But you dasen’t drink none of that cold milk,’* 


36 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


she protested. “ Step right over here to a cup 
of tea, it’s just fresh. But I don’t feel I should 
take all that money.” 

“ Oh, just to give Sam a little surprise,” argued 
Nat, “ and indeed, I owe it to you, for I might 
have taken an awful cold,” and he drank down 
his “ piping ” hot tea. 

“ Well, Sam will be happy,” admitted the 
mother fondly, “ and if you can afford it — ” 

“ Of course I can. There, they have actually 
stopped drinking. We are so much obliged for 
the invitation to take dinner, Mrs. Hardy, but we 
couldn’t really stay,” finished Nat. 

“ No,” said Dorothy, coming in at that mo- 
ment, ‘‘ it is very kind of you to ask us, Mrs. 
Hardy, but my cousin says we must go on. Here 
is something for the milk — ” 

“No more money!” declared the woman. 
“ I’ve taken more now than the Bible would say 
was due me.” 

“ Oh, just this change,” urged Dorothy. 

“ Not a penny! Not one cent! ” Mrs. Hardy 
insisted, but as Dorothy stepped out to join the 
others, who by this time were getting into the car, 
she managed to find a place to hide the coins — 
where Mrs. Hardy would find them later on. 


A QUEER SPRING SUIT 


37 


“ Fm to the bat,” said Ned, as Nat took up his 
place in front. 

“ Not much,” shouted Nat. ‘‘ I haven’t been 
put out yet, and, in overalls and blue shirt, Nat, 
the good-looking and always well-dressed boy, let 
loose the Fire-Bird for another fly through the 
country. 


CHAPTER IV 


A DAY OF DANGERS 

“What do you suppose will happen next?” 
asked Dorothy, as the automobile sped along the 
narrow road through a woodland way. 

“ Don’t tempt the fates,” cautioned Ned, “ we 
can always get enough trouble without beckoning 
it.” 

“ It was good sport, meeting the little country 
woman and all that,” said Nat, “ but I must admit 
I did not enjoy the mud bath. I have heard of 
mud baths in sanitariums. Do you suppose they 
are that kind? ” 

“ Oh, no,” laughed Ned. “ They perfume the 
mud and mix it with bay rum. Then they allow it 
to trickle down your spinal column to the rhythm 
of your favorite poem — so many drops to so 
many feet.” 

“ I’ll never forget how you looked when you 
came up on that rail,” declared Tavia, merrily. 
“ I have heard of such things, but that is the first 
time I ever saw any one really ride a rail — ” 

38 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


39 


“ And my initial performance, I assure you. 
Well, do not be so painfully faithful as never to 
forget my appearance. I think you might sym- 
pathize with a fellow.” 

But Tavia only laughed more heartily. She de- 
clared he could not have been drowned; of course 
it was wet and cold and muddy — 

“ And he might have fallen, and not have been 
able to get to his feet again,” remarked Dorothy, 
with apprehension. “ I am awfully afraid of 
mysterious accidents; and who can tell what Is at 
the bottom of a spring?” 

“ For expert testimony,” replied Nat, “ apply 
to Nathaniel White, Esquire. He Is in every way 
qualified — Oh, I say, my kneel Ouch! Can’t 
move it,” and he winced In pain. 

“ Let me get there,” insisted Ned, “ you may 
take a kink somewhere and make us turn turtle. 
Besides you will not get so much breeze back 
here.” 

Nat was easily persuaded now, for the fact was 
he did not feel at all comfortable — the mud bath 
was getting In Its work, — so the machine was 
stopped while he got In the tonneau and his brother 
took the place at the wheel. 

“ Put this dust robe around you,” ordered Dor- 
othy. “ You may miss your coat In spite of the 


40 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


day, for the wind is sharp when w’e cut through 
the air this way. I do hope you will not be ill — ” 
“ Never! That race Mrs. Hardy gave me, or 
made me take, saved my life. But it’s pleasant 
to change seats. Ned will get a lot of laughs from 
Tavia, and I will enjoy a chance to talk with you.” 

So the little party dashed along, until a turn in 
the road brought a row of houses into view, and 
presently, among them, could be seen a sign that 
indicated eatables were for sale there. Both girls 
and boys went in to do the buying — so keen were 
their appetites now that each preferred to do his 
or her own selecting. Tavia wanted buns, cheese 
and pickles. Nat had cheese, rye bread and but- 
ter (he bought a quarter of a pound) and be- 
sides he found, on the very tip top shelf, some glass 
jars of boneless herring. 

“ Let’s make a regular camp dinner,” suggested 
Ned. “ Buy some potatoes and sliced bacon, 
make tea or coffee — ” 

‘‘ In what? ” asked Dorothy. 

“ Oh, yes, that’s so. We did not bring the 
lunch basket. By the way, you have not seen the 
basket mother received for her birthday. It has 
everything for a lunch on the road ; a lamp to cook 
over, tea and coffee pot, enameled cups, plates, 
good sharp knives — the neatest things, all in a 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


41 


small basket. Mother never lets us take it out, 
when we’re alone. She thinks so much of it.” 

“ I should think she would,” remarked Dor- 
othy. “ But we were speaking of a camp 
lunch — ” 

“ Yes, let’s,” joined in Nat. “ It’s no end of 
fun, roasting potatoes in a stone furnace.” 

“ And toasting bacon on hat pins,” suggested 
Tavia. 

So it was agreed the camp lunch should be their 
meal, Dorothy and Ned doing most of the work 
of buying and finding things fresh enough to eat 
in the old-fashioned dusty store, while Tavia and 
Nat tasted pickles and tried buns, until Dorothy 
interposed, declaring if either ate another mouth- 
ful before the real meal was ready they would not 
be allowed a single warm morsel. 

“ Just one potato,” pleaded Nat. “ I do so 
love burnt potatoes.” 

“ And a single slice of bacon,” urged Tavia. 

I haven’t had that kind of bacon since we were 
out at the Cedars, and I think it is so delicious.” 

“ Then save your appetites,” insisted Dorothy, 
“ and help with the work. No looking for fresh 
spring water this time. Nat, carry this bottle of 
milk. Ned has paid for the bottle and all, so we 
will not have to come back with the jar.” 


42 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


The paper bundles were finally put into the car, 
and then, turning back to the woodland road, it 
was not difficult to find a place suitable to build the 
camp-fire, and set table on a big stump of a newly- 
felled tree that Tavia said made her more hungry 
than ever, for the chips smelt like vinegar and mo- 
lasses, she declared. 

So pleasant was the camp life our friends had 
embarked upon, they did not notice how far the 
afternoon was getting away from them, and before 
they had any inclination to start out on the road 
again, the sun had rolled itself up into a big red 
ball, and was sinking down behind the hills. 

Oh, it may be dark before we get back to Dal- 
ton,” said Dorothy in alarm. “ We should have 
started an hour ago.” 

“ But the potatoes were not done,” Tavia re- 
minded her, “ and we never could have left with- 
out eating them after carrying cords and cords of 
wood to the oven.” 

“ Get aboard,” called Nat, “ I’ll take the wheel 
now, Ned. I’m entirely thawed out.” 

It had certainly been a delightful day, even the 
accident at the spring was now merely an event to 
laugh at, while the meal on the big chestnut stump, 
beside the camp-fire, had been so enjoyable, and 
now, all that remained was the pleasant ride home. 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


43 


That is all that appeared to remain, but automobile 
rides, like chickens, should not be counted until all 
is over, and the machine is safely put up for the 
night. Chickens have the same tendency as have 
autos toward surprises — and disappointments. 

“ There’s a hill,” remarked Ned, quite unneces- 
sarily, as a long stretch of brown road seemed to 
bound up in front of them. 

“ A nice climb,” acquiesced Nat. “ Now, Birdy, 
be good. Straight ahead. No flunking now — 
steady,” and he “ coaxed ” the machine into a 
slow, even run, that became more and more irk- 
some as the grade swelled. 

“ But when we get at the top? ” asked Tavia. 

“ We will not stay there long,” answered Nat, 
“ for if there is one thing this machine likes to do 
it is to coast down hill.” 

The Fire-Bird made its way up the steep grade, 
and presently, as Nat predicted, turned the hill- 
orest and “ flew ” down the other side. 

The swiftness of the motion made conversation 
impossible, for the machine was coasting, the 
power being off, and surely the Fire-Bird was “ fly- 
ing through the air.” 

Reaching the level stretch again, Nat threw in 
the clutch, but a grinding and clanking noise an- 
swered his movement of the lever. 


44 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“ Hello ! ” called Ned from the rear. 
“ Busted!’^ 

“ Something wrong,” agreed Ned, looking at 
the spark and gasoline controllers. 

Presently, as the boys expected, the machine 
slowed up, and then came to a stop. 

Both were out at once, and they examined the 
mechanism together. 

“ It’s the leather facings on the friction clutch,” 
declared Ned. “ See that one worn off? ” 

“ Guess that’s right,” answered Ned. “ Well, 
now for a horse.” 

“I sold my wheel for an automobile; Get a 
horse! Get a horse! ” sang Tavia, while she and 
Dorothy climbed out to join the inspection com- 
mittee. 

“ Is it bad? ” asked Dorothy. 

“ Bad enough to stall us until we can get it fixed 
up somewhere,” said Ned. “ We’ll have to take 
part of the clutch out,” and he proceeded to do 
so. 

“ Yes, we cannot move until we get a new leather 
on here,” added Nat. “ I wonder how far we 
might be from a blacksmith shop.” 

“ A couple of miles,” answered Tavia. “ I 
have often been through this woods.” 

Then I suppose,” went on Ned, rather dole- 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


45 

fully, “ there is nothing to be done but ‘ hike ’ to 
the shop.” 

“You go and I’ll stay and take care of the 
girls,” suggested Nat. 

“ Oh, both go,” chimed in Tavia. “ You will 
get back sooner, and you may have some trouble 
getting it fixed at the shop, for I have been there 
and I know the man is as deaf as a post and — • 
other things,” she finished vaguely. “ There is a 
house just across the fields there and we are not 
the least bit afraid — ” 

“ If it will hurry the work you had best both 
go,” Dorothy added. “ As Tavia says, there is 
a house in sight, and we could run there if any- 
thing came along to scare us.” 

“ Well, trot along Nat,” commanded Ned, as he 
took up the piece of the clutch. “ This is sure 
your busy day. I’ll race you to the bend to make 
good time, and I assure you, young ladies, we will 
not be one moment longer than necessary away 
from you.” 

“ We are so very fond of you,” joked Nat^ 
“ that every moment will be unto us an hour — ” 

“ Oh, come, quit your nonsense, if you are go- 
ing to run — ” 

But before Ned had finished, his brother had 
gained quite a handicap and was making tracks 


46 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


through the glen, and then out again into the open. 

“ Isn’t it lonely,” said Dorothy, getting into 
the disabled machine after the youths were out of 
sight. 

“ Not a bit,’^ declared Tavia. “ No tramps 
around here. But such a day ! I almost feel as if 
one more thing must happen. Bad luck goes in 
threes, you know. One more will surely make up 
our day — ” 

“ Oh, please don’t talk so,” and Dorothy shiv- 
ered. “ I do wish we were safely back in Dal- 
ton.” 

“ And the boys gone back to the Cedars I Well, 
I would rather have the ride ahead of me, than 
to have it all ended. It is so nice to have good 
times. Sometimes I think I’ll just run away, and 
see what there is to do and observe outside of that 
stupid old Dalton,” exclaimed Tavia. 

“Tavia!” and Dorothy’s voice betrayed how 
shocked she was at the very thought of such a 
thing as “ running away.” “ How can you talk 
so? ” 

“ Oh, it’s all very well for you, Doro. You can 
have and do as you please ; but poor me ! I must 
be content — ” 

“ Tavia, I am sure I heard someone coming! ” 
exclaimed Dorothy. 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


47 


“ Quite likely. This is a common road, you 
know. We have no fence around it.” 

“ But suppose it should be some rough per- 
son — ” 

“If we don’t like his looks when he comes up 
we can run,” said Tavia, coolly. 

“ And leave the car? ” 

“ Can’t take it with us, surely.” 

For a few moments neither girl spoke. Dor- 
othy had never gotten over the frights she had 
received when the man Anderson followed her for 
the purpose of getting information about the Bur- 
lock matter, and every trifling thing alarmed her 
now. 

“ It’s a man,” said Tavia, as the form of a 
heavily-built fellow could now be discerned on the 
path. 

“ Oh, and he has that same kind of hat on,” 
sighed Dorothy, referring to the hat previously 
worn by Anderson. 

“ And it — really — does look like him ! Let’s 
run! We have just about time to get to that 
house. Come out this side. There, give me your 
hand,” and Tavia, glancing back to the figure in 
the road, took Dorothy’s hand and urged her on 
over the rough path, until Dorothy felt she must 
fall from fright and exhaustion. 


48 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


The road to the farm house was on a little side 
path turning off from the one followed by the 
boys on their way to the blacksmith shop. Hav- 
ing once gained the spot where the roads met, 
Tavia stopped to look back at the car. 

“ I declare ! ” she gasped. “ He Is climbing 
into the machine.” 

“ Oh, what shall we do? ” walled Dorothy. 

“ Can’t do a thing but hide here until the boys 
come. We can see him If he gets out, but if wc 
went over to the house we might miss the boys, and 
they might run right Into his arms.” 

“ Oh,” cried Dorothy. “ I am so dreadfully 
frightened. Don’t you suppose we can get any 
help until the boys come? ” 

“ Not unless someone happens to pass. And 
this is a back road : no one seems to go home from 
work this way.” 

“Oh, if someone only would!” and Dorothy 
was now almost in tears. 

“ Just see 1 ” exclaimed Tavia, “ he Is examining 
the front now. Suppose he could start it up ? ” 

“ But he cannot,” Dorothy declared, “ if the car 
worked the boys would never have left us here all 
alone,” and again she was dangerously near shed- 
ding tears. 

“ There now, he is getting in again. Well, I 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


49 


hope he stays there until someone comes,” said 
Tavia. “ Isn’t it getting dark? ” 

“ And if the boys do not get back — Oh, per- 
haps we had better run right straight on. We 
may get to some town — ” 

“We would be running into a deeper woods, 
and goodness knows, it is dark enough here. 
No, we had better stay near the house, then, if 
worst comes to worst, we can ask them to keep us 
all night — ” 

“ Tavia you make me shudder,” cried Dorothy. 
“ Of course we will not have to do any such thing.” 

But Tavia’s spirit of adventure was thoroughly 
aroused, and, in her sensational way, she forgot 
for the moment the condition of Dorothy’s nerves, 
and really enjoyed the speculation of what might 
happen if “ the worst came to the worst.” 

“ There he goes again,” she burst out, beginning 
to see humor in the situation, as the figure in the 
car climbed from the front seat to the back. “ He 
is like the little girl who got into the house of the 
* Three Bears.’ One is too high and one is too 
low — there now, Doro, he has found your place 
‘ just right ’ and will go to sleep there, see if he 
doesn’t.” 

“Hark! That’s Ned’s voice—” 

“ And that’s Nat’s — ” 


DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“ Yes, there they come. Oh, I am so glad — ” 

“ Me too,” said Tavia, in her pardonable Eng- 
lish. 

“ Had we better go and meet them? ” 

“ No, indeed, the man in the car might take it 
into his head to come to. Better keep quiet.” 

Presently Ned and Nat reached the corner. 

“ Hush,” called Tavia, coming out from her 
Jhiding-place. 

“ Well, what on earth — ” began Nat. 

Listen,” commanded Tavia. “ There’s a 
man in the car. He has been there ever since you 
went away — ” 

“In our carl Well, his time is up,” blurted 
out Ned. “ He must move on,” and the boy’s 
manner indicated, “ I will make him move on.” 

“ But he may be dangerous,” cried Dorothy. 
“ Oh, please Ned, don’t go near him until you 
have someone to help you 1 ” 

“And what would I be doing?” said Nat, in 
that same challenging manner. “ Come along, 
Ned. We will teach that fellow to let our girls 
and our property alone.” 

“ But please I ” begged Dorothy, clinging to 
Ned. “ Call someone from that house. He did 
look so like — ” 

“ Our friend Anderson,” finished Tavia, for 


A DAY OF DANGERS 


51 


Dorothy seemed too frightened to utter the name. 

“ Did he though? ” and Nat gave Ned a sig- 
nificant look. “ All the more reason why I should 
like to make his acquaintance. You girls will 
have to hide here until we get rid of him, and we 
have no time to spare if we want to work by day- 
light. Come along, Ned. Girls, don’t be the 
least alarmed. We will be down the road after 
you in a jiffy. It won’t take two seconds to put 
in this clutch.” 

“ But I feel sure it is that dreadful man,” 
wailed Dorothy. “ Oh, if some strong person 
would only come ! ” 

“ Now, you just sit down there,” said Ned, ten- 
derly, ‘‘ and when you hear us whistle you will 
know it is all right. It may be only a poor far- 
mer resting on his way home.” 

But the girls were too certain that no farmer 
would have enjoyed climbing from one seat to the 
other as they had seen this man doing, and they 
had strange misgivings about him — of course 
Anderson was in jail, but — 

“ Now, don’t be a bit worried,” added Nat. 

We will be spinning down the road directly,” 
and at this the boys left the girls again, and started 
down the road to interview the strange man in 
their automobile. 


52 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“ Oh, I do feel as if I shall die I ” cried Dor- 
othy. “ Let us pray, Tavia, that nothing will 
happen to the boys ! ” 

“ You pray, but I have to watch,’’ answered 
Tavia, not realizing how scriptural her words 
were, “ for if they should need help I have got 
to go to that house after it.” 

Then, on the damp grass, poor Dorothy buried 
her head in prayer, such prayer as can come only 
from a heart in distress. 

Tavia, as she had said, stood straight out in the 
middle of the road, watching through the dim 
light. 

The boys were at the car now, and they were 
speaking to the man ! 


CHAPTER V 


THE POLICE PATROL 

For some moments neither girl spoke: Tavia 
stood out in the road like an officer, while Dor- 
othy did not lift her head from her attitude of 
prayer. Suddenly Dorothy, in a frenzy of fear, 
rushed out to where Tavia stood, and threw her 
arms around her. 

“ Tavia,” she exclaimed, “ I must go to them. 
I cannot stand another moment like this — I am 
simply choking. Come: See, they have not been 
able to manage him. He is in the car yet. Oh, 
do let us go ! ” and the look on the terrified girPs 
face so frightened Tavia she forgot to watch, for- 
got everything but Dorothy — something would 
surely happen to her if that anxiety was not soon 
relieved. 

But to go to the boys! Might not that make 
matters worse? 

“ Dorothy, darling,” began Tavia, “ don’t be 
so frightened. Perhaps they are just talking 
pleasantly to him — ” 


53 


54 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ Then I must hear them. I must know what 
it is all about. Do come ! ” and she tried to drag 
Tavia from the spot to which she seemed riveted. 

“If you would only wait here while I go down 
first, and then if it is all right, that is, if the boys 
want us to come — ” 

“ No, no,” cried Dorothy. “ I must go at 
once! Seel Oh, Nat is coming this way — ” 

“ Yes, here comes Nat. It will be all right 
now,” and Tavia was soothing Dorothy as if she 
were a baby — patting her, smoothing her hair, 
and even pressing her lips to her cheek. In 
truth Dorothy appeared as weak as a baby, and 
seemed to require that help which a loving human 
hand may impart to a nervous body, at once the 
sense of protection and the assurance of sympathy. 

“ Ned is starting up the machine,” exclaimed 
Tavia. “ Oh, I know. He is going to give the 
man a ride.” 

Little dreaming how truly she spoke, for indeed 
Ned was going to give the strange man a stranger 
ride, Tavia showed Dorothy that she believed 
everything was all right now, and then Nat was 
there — they could call to him. Yes, he was 
whistling lightly. How silly they were to have 
been frightened! 


THE POLICE PATROL 


55 


“ What is it? ” demanded Dorothy, as soon as 
her cousin could hear her voice. 

“ I guess it was — ” 

“Nat! Nat!’’ screamed Tavia, at the same 
time running to him and whispering a word in 
his ear. “ There, now, Dorothy. Didn’t I tell 
you. Only a poor farmer. Where did he say 
he lived, Nat? ” 

“ Tavia, you told Nat not to tell me — ” 

“ Ha 1 ha ! ha I ” roared Nat. “ Well, of all 
things. Not to tell you. Well I guess I will. 
Sit right down here, my little Coz, and I shall be 
delighted to tell you all I know,” and at this he 
drew the almost exhausted girl down to a tree 
stump, to “ tell her.” But Tavia kept close at 
the other side of the young man — she could 
nudge him if — well, of course, just to make the 
story funny — perhaps! 

“ Wanted a ride, that was all,” declared Nat. 
“ See, here they are. We must not notice them 
as they pass ! ” 

“Why?” asked Dorothy. But in answer Nat 
squeezed her hand so hard she knew he meant 
for her to keep quiet. 

The car flew past. Ned never glanced at those 
by the roadside. And how strange he looked — 


56 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ Oh, Nat! ’’ almost screamed Dorothy. “ That 
man had on striped clothes — like — ” 

“ Queer kind of sweater. They come in all 
sorts of stripes,” her cousin interrupted, with a 
side glance at Tavia. 

“ But his leg was out of the car, and that 
was — ” 

“ Also striped. Yes, I noticed his suit was 
not exactly of the newest fall pattern, but there 
is no telling where a farmer may pick up his 
duds. Like as not his wife made the trousers out 
of some good strong bed ticking.” 

“ Nat, you are trying to deceive me. That 
man is an escaped convict, and Ned is riding 
alone with him — Oh, what will become of us?” 
and tears welled to Dorothy’s eyes. That outlet 
of the overstrained — a good cry — had come to 
her relief. 

“ Oh, there I ” begged Nat. “ Don’t take on 
so. It will be all right. Ned will be back for 
us before you have your eyes dry,” and he kissed 
his little cousin affectionately. 

“And it was that awful man out of jail! I 
knew it! I could tell him before he ever got 
to the car! I can always tell when he is coming. 
Oh! suppose he should kill Ned — ” and she burst 
into a fresh flood of hysterical tears. 


THE POLICE PATROL 


57 


Meanwhile Tavia had not yet heard what had 
happened to induce Ned to take the convict away 
— for Anderson it was. Nat had told her it was 
that awful rascal when she cautioned him to hide it 
from Dorothy. Certainly it was all very strange, 
and very dangerous. 

“ I suppose we have to sit here and wait for 
Ned to come back,’’ ventured Tavia. 

“ Or else walk to meet him,” suggested Nat, 
who was really anxious to do something beside 
sitting there listening to Dorothy cry. “ Dry 
your tears, Dorothy,” he said kindly, “ and we 
will walk along. It is pleasant and cool, and it 
will do us good to have a walk.” 

“Can’t we get back to Dalton this way?” 
aked Dorothy. “ Isn’t this the road we came 
out?” 

“ It may be the road but it is some miles from 
town,” answered Nat. “Listen! What was 
that?” 

“ The gong of an ambulance, it sounded like,” 
exclaimed Tavia. “ Hark! ” 

At that moment a wagon turned a corner and 
came towards them. It was a black wagon — 
yes, it did look like an ambulance. 

“ Oh,” shrieked Dorothy. “ What ever has 
happened now?” 


58 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“ Why, it’s only the police patrol,” answered 
Nat, trying to be indifferent about the matter. 
“ Probably they’re — ” 

“ Hello there, young fellow ! ” called a man 
from the wagon. “ Have you seen a fellow in 
stripes about these woods?” 

The speaker was addressing Nat, and he wore 
the uniform of a police officer. 

“ Yes, we have,” answered the young man. 
“ And I can tell you all about him.” 

The wagon came to a full stop now, and the 
officer stepped down from the seat at front, while 
simultaneously, two other officers dropped from 
the step at the back, so that our friends suddenly 
became surrounded by bluecoats. 

“ There,” said Tavia aside to Dorothy. “ You 
are not afraid now, are you? We have enough 
of protection at last.” 

“Which way did he go?” asked the officer. 

“ Straight for Danvers,” answered Nat, “ and 
in my brother’s custody. We had to go to a shop 
to get a piece of the machine fixed and left these 
two young ladies alone here. When we returned 
the fellow was in our auto — he had taken posses- 
sion of it, and refused to give it up. We did 
everything to induce him, but he absolutely re- 
fused to leave, and demanded a ride, so, recogniz- 


THE POLICE PATROL 


59 


ing him from the description as the fellow who 
had escaped from Danvers, my brother decided 
there was nothing to do but give him a ride back 
to the jail.” 

“ Well, he’s a plucky lad, I must say,” declared 
the officer spokesman. “ That fellow is danger- 
ous, he was just about to be committed to the 
asylum. He’s a lunatic, and should never have 
been in jail — ” 

“ Oh,” cried Dorothy. “ If he should turn 
on Ned — ” 

“ Not the least danger as long as the lad 
humors him,” said the officer. 

“ We saw that,” said Nat, “ and my brother 
knows how to manage him, I guess.” 

“ And you are stalled now, can’t get home until 
the machine comes back? ” asked one of the blue- 
coats, looking at Dorothy’s pale face. 

“ I might walk, but the girls never could,” 
answered Nat. 

“Then suppose you go with us?” suggested 
the officer. “ If the young ladies would not mind 
riding in a patrol.” 

“ Oh, not at all,” declared Tavia, but Dorothy 
looked askance at the wagon, in which so many 
criminals had ridden from their freedom. 

“ The best thing we can do,” said Nat, realiz- 


6o DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


ing how much better any kind of ride would be 
than the uncertainty of waiting there as night came 
on. 

“ Jump in then,” invited the officer. “ We 
must be moving. I don’t know what the captain 
will think of our prisoner coming up in an auto- 
mobile, and the wagon bringing in this party.” 

Up the back step sprang Tavia, while Dorothy 
followed with less alacrity — it did not seem 
pleasant to get in the big ugly black wagon; a 
girl of Dorothy’s nature feels the mere touch of 
things tainted by real crime. 

“ All right? ” asked Nat, as he stepped in last. 

“ Yes,” answered Dorothy, timidly, taking her 
place on the leather seat. 

“ Isn’t it too jolly! ” burst out Tavia. “ I bet 
on the horse every time. Of course the auto is 
delightful, but when night cometh on, — Get a 
horse 1 Get a horse ! ” 

“ The horse is a good old stand-by,” admitted 
Nat. “But isn’t this great, though! Riding 
into Dalton in the hurry-up wagon ! ” and he 
joined Tavia in the laugh over their new adven- 
ture. 

“ But we must watch for Ned,” spoke Dorothy. 
“ He might go back to that lonely place.” 

“ I’ve told the officer at front to look out for 


THE POLICE PATROL 


6i 


him,” remarked Nat. “ He has to come this 
way.” 

“ And to think,” whispered Dorothy, “ that the 
man was crazy, and the officer said he should 
never have been in jail ! ” 

“ Don’t you worry about him,” Nat told her. 
‘‘ That fellow has the faculty of making himself 
comfortable any place. Look at his nerve in the 
Fire-Bird.” 

“ We were lucky to have gotten away in time,” 
reflected Tavia. “ We would scarcely have 
known how to entertain a lunatic.” 

“ Oh, don’t talk so ! ” Dorothy checked her. 
“ I am so nervous and so anxious about Ned.” 

“ Now, Dorothy,” declared Nat, “ Ned is cer- 
tainly all right, and will be the first person to meet 
us when we alight from this chariot. Thunder, 
but this is fun ! ” 

The officers outside were talking of the strange 
capture. A reward had been offered for the tak- 
ing of the lunatic, for he had been at large for 
some days, and now the bluecoats had just missed 
the capture. 

While at the blacksmith’s Ned and Nat had 
heard of the escape of Anderson and so recog- 
nized him at once when they encountered him in 
their car. 


62 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ I told you we would have three adventures/’ 
Tavia reminded Dorothy. 

“ And we are not home yet/’ added Nat, laugh- 
ing. 

The wagon rattled on, now and then clanging 
its gong to warn mere “ people,” not to interfere 
with the law — to keep out of its way. 

“ We are in some village,” said Dorothy, look- 
ing out the little glass window at front, and see- 
ing street lights along the way. 

Presently a gang of urchins discovered the 
patrol wagon and as the horses slowed up around 
a corner the youngsters tried to get on the steps 
to catch a glimpse of the “ prisoners.” 

“Look at that!” exclaimed Tavia, laughing. 
“ Wonder what they think we were taken up 
for? ” 

“Oh, I feel so queer about it,” said Dorothy, 
plainly discomfited. “ I wish we could get out.” 

At that moment the wagon sprang forward, 
the horses having been urged on, and before Nat 
had a chance to reply to Dorothy’s wish they were 
rattling on, at greater speed than had been at- 
tained during the entire trip. 

To reach Danvers jail the route v/as through 
Dalton, and now Tavia could see Dalton houses, 
Dalton churches, and there was the postoffice 


THE POLICE PATROL 63 

block! Surely the officer would not let them out 
right in the center! 

“ Here you are! ” called the man at front, while 
the wagon stopped and Nat saw they were in front 
of the bank, the most conspicuous spot in all Dal- 
ton. 

There was nothing for them to do but to alight 
of course, and, by the time the officers had vacated 
the back step, and Nat put his foot on it, a crowd 
of people surrounded the wagon — waiting to see 
the ‘‘ prisoners ” get out. 

“Girls!’’ exclaimed the surprised crowd in 
chorus. 

“ Tavia Travers!” declared one voice, as 
Tavia showed her head. 

“And if that isn’t Dorothy Dale! Well, 
they’re nice girls!” came another sneer, “talk 
about being good and always preaching.” This 
was almost in Dorothy’s ear. “ I guess they had 
better begin at home ! ” 

Tears came to Dorothy’s eyes. If her father 
were only there to take her hand — could that 
be little Joe? 

“Dorothy! Dorothy!” called a young voice. 
“ Come this way! We have been down to the 
telegraph office,” went on Joe, for Dorothy vv^as 
beside him now, “ and we never had any idea 


64 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


you were in that wagon. Ned just got back. 
He was going out again to look for you.” 

“ Is Ned all right? ” Dorothy managed to say, 
while Nat was thanking the officers who were in 
haste to be on their way again. 

“ Oh, he’s all right, but I guess he had an 
awful time. He was too hurried to tell us about 
it, for he said he had to go back — There’s his 
car now I Ned! Ned!” shouted Joe at the top 
of his voice, while Nat, seeing his brother at the 
same moment, gave his familiar whistle. 

Tavia had not yet been able to extricate herself 
from the crowd. Many of the boys recognized 
her, and she was plied with all kinds of curious 
questions. What had happened? Had they been 
arrested for speeding? (Ned’s presence in the 
automobile prompting this query), or was some- 
one hurt? In fact, there seemed to be no limit 
to the quality or quantity of questions that were 
being poured into Tavia’s ears. 

But Tavia was not the sort of girl to make ex- 
planations — under the circumstances. If friends, 
or those who appeared to be friends, could so 
easily lose all sympathy, and become so annoy- 
ingly curious about her and Dorothy, why then, 
she declared to herself (and also made it plain 
to some of the boys who were at liberty to tell 


THE POLICE PATROL 


65 


the others), what really did happen “was none 
of their business.” 

But unfortunately there were, in that crowd, 
those too willing to draw their own conclusions, 
especially as regarded Dorothy Dale, a girl of 
whom so many others had been jealous. 

Dorothy was aware of some of the remarks 
made, but she little realized what a part the 
patrol wagon ride was to play in her life, nor 
how a girl who had observed her in the vehicle 
was to use that knowledge against her. 


CHAPTER VI 


A RIDE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 

Mrs. Winthrop White was talking earnestly 
to her brother, Major Dale. She had come in 
from the Cedars the morning after the memorable 
ride in the Fire-Bird, and was now in the major’s 
study, discussing the situation with Dorothy’s 
father. 

“ But the child has had so many shocks lately, 
brother,” said Mrs. White. “ It does seem the 
only practical plan is to remove her entirely from 
these surroundings. Of course, it will be hard for 
you to let her go away, but you must remember, 
Dorothy has always been a little over-strained with 
care for one of her years, and now that your 
means will allow it, she should have every possible 
advantage to make up for what she may have 
lost in the way of nerve force.” 

“ Oh, I am sure you know, sister,” replied the 
major, “ I would not deprive the child of any- 
thing she should have, no matter what it cost me, 
in money or — the loss of her company. She has 
66 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


67 


certainly been my Little Captain, for I can always 
depend upon her to keep the young troopers in 
line — ” 

“ But why remain here at all? You can give 
up business now. Do, brother, come and make 
your home with me. I really need you so often, 
when I have no one to advise with about the boys. 
And Joe and Roger would be so much better off 
with me to look after them. Mrs. Martin has 
done wonderfully well for her years, but she is 
no longer able to see to them properly. Just give 
up this place and come to the Cedars,” urged Mrs. 
White. 

“ I would not know how to leave dear old Dal- 
ton or my newspaper,” mused the major. “ Of 
course you are very good to think of bothering 
with another family. Most women think one 
family enough to bring up.” 

“ Indeed, I need something to do,” argued the 
sister, “ and Roger would be a perfect treat to 
me. He is such a darling. Joe will go to school, 
of course (already taking it for granted that her 
invitation would be accepted), but I would have 
Roger taught at home for this year. He is too 
young to mix up with all the others.” 

“ I am sure it would be good for the chil- 
dren — ” 


68 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ And for yourself ! Why, you are not too old 
to enjoy your life. The idea of a man of less 
than fifty years, considering himself old,” and 
Mrs. White laughed in that captivating manner of 
hers, that had so often won her cause when all 
other arguments failed. “ And that school you 
speak of for Dorothy, the one in the mountains 
of New England, what did you call it?” 

“ The Glenwood School,” replied the major. 
Mrs. Pangborn, who conducts it, is an old friend 
of mine, and if I should trust Dorothy with any- 
one it would be with Louise Pangborn, for she 
knew Dorothy’s mother and would be sure to take 
an interest in her daughter.” 

“ The very thing ! Capital ! ” exclaimed Mrs. 
White enthusiastically. “We must make arrange- 
ments at once. There is little time left before 
the term opens. Dear me, brother, some women 
may like to idle, but give me a girl to dress up 
for school! Perhaps because I have never had 
the joy for doing it for my own daughter, I so 
love to take up Dorothy and experiment on her. 
No girl at school shall be better equipped than 
Dorothy Dale — ” 

“ Now take care, sister. We are plain folks, 
you know.” 

“ Not one whit plainer than your sister Ruth. 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


69 


I shall only get Dorothy things that befit her sta- 
tion, in fact the best dressed girls do not, by any 
means have more clothes than others. They sim- 
ply have what is needed.” 

“ Oh, I know ! I know I can depend upon 
you, Ruth. Only I also knOw you think Doro- 
thy — ” 

“ A wonderfully pretty and attractive girl, and 
one who must wear the right kind of clothes. 
There, I feel I am looking through the shops 
now. I must admit I have a weakness for pretty 
things, whether girls or their dresses.” 

“ Strange I should have so lately received a 
letter from Mrs. Pangborn inquiring about Dor- 
othy,” remarked the major. “ I have it some 
place,” and he pulled a packet of papers from his 
desk, soon finding the one wanted. “ There,” he 
went on, glancing over the missive, “ Louise says 
she has now two assistants, a Miss Crane and a 
Miss Higley.” 

“ Might I see the letter? ” asked Mrs. White, 
already assuming the mother part toward Doro- 
thy, and feeling it her duty to know all she might 
be able to find out concerning the woman to whom 
Dorothy would be entrusted. 

“ Why, certainly,” replied the major, handing 
her the letter. She glanced over the paper. 


70 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ There,” she said presently, smiling. “ I 
fancy I see Miss Crane, whom Mrs. Pangborn 
describes as being such a favorite with the girls. 
And the other. Miss Higley — her name Is 
enough. She must be the sort of teacher who 
does good work in classes, but seems to put a 
damper on the girls’ pranks. Of course, such a 
person is always valuable in a boarding school,” 
and she handed back the paper, “ but what a lot 
of trouble they can make ! I went to a boarding 
school myself, you know, and I know and remem- 
ber all about the Miss HIgleys.” 

“ Then you think it would be a good plan to 
send Dorothy to Glenwood?” and the major’s 
voice showed that he looked favorably upon the 
proposition. 

“ Glenwood School, In the mountains of New 
England! I can see the tags on Dorothy’s 
trunks,” she replied merrily. “ Nothing could be 
better. And that splendid mountain air I Why, 
you won’t know the child when she comes home 
for her holiday. But I am going to write this 
very morning. Or will you do it? And I will 
write in reply to the next. Yes, I think that would 
be better. And now I am going right up to 
Dorothy and tell her all about It. The child 
had such a headache from her experiences yester- 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


71 


day that I insisted upon her lying down. Wasn’t 
that the most absurd thing for those children 
to ride to town in the police patrol? The boys 
will never stop talking of it. And Tavia Travers 
thinks it the joke of her life. But Dorothy is 
not keen on that sort of jokes. She does not 
relish the curiosity which the incident has stirred 
up. I could see that this morning, when those 
school friends were talking it over with her.” 

“ Dorothy is a very sensitive girl.” 

“ All fine natures are sensitive, Allen. They 
neither offend nor relish being offended. It is 
perfectly natural that the child should resent such 
remarks as some of those I have heard passed 
about the patrol ride.” 

“ Of course they only came from children,” 
apologized the major, “ and youngsters will have 
their say.” 

“ Yes, but sometimes the ‘ say ’ of jealous young 
girls may go a long way. A jealous girl is, I 
believ^e, even a more dangerous enemy than a 
woman scorned, about whom so much is written 
and said. But I am sure Dorothy can hold her 
own in spite of any girl.” 

Why had Mrs. White been so apprehensive 
about the small talk she had overheard? What 
could any one say against Dorothy Dale? 


72 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


That afternoon a school friend called on Doro- 
thy and brought with her a young girl who had 
been spending part of her vacation at the MacAllis- 
ter home. She was introduced as Miss Viola 
Green of Dunham, and while rather a pretty girl 
she had something in her manner that made Dor- 
othy feel uncomfortable. This unaccountable dis- 
like on Dorothy’s part was heightened when Tavia 
went over to the veranda where the girls were 
sitting, and upon Alice introducing Tavia to her 
friend the latter merely bowed stiffly, and refused 
to accept the hand that Tavia had offered in 
greeting. This was all the more strange since 
Alice was so splendid a girl herself. 

But Viola Green had made a serious mistake 
in refusing to accept the honest hand of Tavia 
Travers, although strange to say the incident was a 
most fortunate happening, as far as Tavia and 
Dorothy were concerned — it told them the kind 
of girl Viola was. Alice, seeing the slight, winked 
slyly at Tavia, who, after flushing furiously, man- 
aged to return the secret sign of Alice by snapping 
her own brown eye open and shut. 

“ I simply thought I should die,” began Alice, 
anxious to start conversation. “ When I saw you 
step out of that wagon last night. Viola and I 
were just down to the post-office and when the 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


73 

crowd gathered of course, we had to see what was 
going on. Well, when I saw Tavia — ” 

A burst of laughter stopped Alice. She had a 
way of seeing humor in things and of enjoying 
the process of extracting it. Tavia joined her 
in the merriment, but Viola sat there with a curled 
lip. Dorothy was not laughing either — she was 
observing the stranger. 

“Wasn’t it great!” exclaimed Tavia. “I 
wish you could have been along. Dorothy was 
scared to death, but the very idea of any one 
being afraid while surrounded by four strapping 
policemen 1 ” 

“ And when your cousin came into the post-office 
to send his telegram — to his mother, wasn’t it? 
And we beheld — a dude in overalls and jumper 1 ” 
and Alice laughed again. “ Really,” she con- 
tinued, finally, “ I thought I should pass away! ” 

“Was that your cousin?” asked Viola un- 
pleasantly. 

“ Why, Ola,” exclaimed Alice, the ring of some- 
thing like anger in her voice, “ I certainly told you 
the young man was Mr. Nat White from North 
Birchland, Dorothy’s cousin.” 

“ Oh,” sniffed the other. “ I am sure I thought 
you said he was Tavia’s cousin.” 

“ That’s good,” chimed in Tavia. “ Wish he 


74 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


was; he would make all kinds of nice cousins, for 
he is the dandiest boy — ” 

“ So ! ’’ almost sneered Viola. 

“Yes, that’s so,” declared Tavia, with a chal- 
lenging look at the stranger. 

“ Viola thinks nice boys should not be cousins,” 
remarked Alice, trying to patch up the squabble. 
But Dorothy had risen from her seat and was toy- 
ing with the honeysuckle. Evidently she had no 
intention of joining in the unpleasant argument. 

“ I declare, Doro,” said Alice suddenly. “ I 
have scarcely heard your voice to-day. And all 
the stories that I have been contradicting about 
you. That you were hurt in an auto accident; 
that your chauffeur was arrested for speeding and 
you were obliged to go to police court to make a 
statement; that some lunatic chased you, and you 
had to get in the wagon to save your life — Oh! 
I tell you, Doro, you never know how popular 
you are until you take a ride in the ‘ hurry up ’ 
wagon. I would have given my new dog (and I 
love him dearly) to have been in that tally-ho 
with you,” and Alice threw her arms about Doro- 
thy, whose face, she could not help observing, was 
white and strained. 

“ It certainly was an experience,” admitted Dor- 
othy, joining the group again. 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


75 


“ But what in the world makes you act like 
such a funeral?” Alice blurted out. 

“ I have just heard something that makes me 
serious,” answered Dorothy. “ I may as well tell 
you now. I am going away to boarding school! ” 

“This term?” exclaimed Viola, before either 
Alice or Tavia had time to speak. 

“ Certainly,” replied Dorothy coolly. “ Why 
not? ” 

“ Oh, nothing, of course,” returned Viola, 
“ Only after yesterday folks might think — oh, 
you know country folks can never understand the 
trick of deciding things quickly. You had not 
thought of it — of going away before, had you? ” 

Dorothy was too indignant to speak. What 
ever could the girl mean by such insinuations? 
Even Alice seemed dumbfounded, and Tavia pos- 
itively dangerous. She walked straight up to the 
chair Viola occupied. 

“ Miss Green,” she called. “ ‘After yesterday,’ 
as you express it, is precisely the same as before 
yesterday, to all concerned. The experiences 
were unusual — ” 

“ I should think so — ” the stranger had the 
temerity to remark, but Alice had risen to go, 
while Viola stepped down from the porch, with- 
out offering a word of apology or explanation. 


76 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


‘•And where are you going, Dorothy dear?” 
asked Alice tenderly, trying to undo the harm that 
her visitor had been so successful in creating. 

“ To the Glenwood School, in the mountains 
of New England, I believe,” answered Dorothy. 

“Indeed?” spoke up Miss Green again. 
“ That is where I attend. How strange we should 
meet just before the term opens,” and she smiled 
that same unpleasant smile that had chilled Dor« 
othy when Alice introduced them. 

“You do!” exclaimed Tavia rather rudely. 
Then she added: “ Dorothy Dale, who told you 
you could go away to school? You have not 
asked my permission yet. To the mountains of 
New England! I would like to see you run 
away and leave me ! ” 

“ It would be unpleasant indeed ! ” called back 
Viola. “ You had better come to Glenwood 
too ! ” 

“ Maybe I will,” snapped Tavia. “ One thing 
is certain. Dorothy Dale will have friends where- 
ever she goes and if I could go, I would be most 
happy to look on while she reaps her new con- 
quests. Dorothy is a regular winner. Miss Green. 
You will have to look out if she goes to Glenwood. 
She will cut you out with your best friends. She 
always makes one fell swoop of the entire outfit! ” 


CONSEQUENCES OF A RIDE 


77 


A look of deep scorn was the answer Viola made 
to Tavia’s attempt at raillery. Evidently she had 
made up her mind that Dorothy Dale would never 
“ cut her out ” at Glenwood. 

And Mrs. White had remarked to her brother, 
Major Dale, that a jealous girl was a dangerous 
enemy I 


,4 


CHAPTER VII 


tavia’s danger 

“Whatever can that girl mean?” exclaimed 
Dorothy, when Alice and Viola had passed down 
the walk. 

“ Mean ! The meanest thing I ever met ! 
Did you see her refuse my hand? ” asked Tavla. 
“ Well, it’s a good thing to be able to size up a 
girl like that at the first meeting ; It saves complica- 
tions. But who cares for green violets? What 
I want to know Is, are you really going away, 
Doro?” and the look on Tavia’s face could not 
be mistaken. She would be dreadfully grieved if 
compelled to part with Dorothy’s companionship. 

“ Aunt Winnie thinks I should go, and father 
has decided It is best. Of course I shall hate to 
leave you, Tavia,” and Dorothy wound her arm 
affectionately around her friend. “ In fact I 
shall never, never, find any girl to take your place 
In my heart,” and something very like tears came 
into Dorothy’s voice. 

“ I knew It ! I just knew you would go away 
78 


TAVIA’S DANGER 


79 


when you got that hateful Indian money. And 
what in the world will I ever do in Dalton? Now 
I have learned how much pleasure I could have, 
visiting your friends and riding in automobiles, and 
then, just when I get to realizing what a good 
time we could have, you up and leave me! I 
might have know better than to go out of my 
own limits 1 ” and here Tavia actually burst into 
tears, a most remarkable thing for her to do. 

“I am so sorry,” said Dorothy with a sigh, 
putting her arm around the weeping girl. 

“ There ! What a goose I am ! Of course 
I would not have done differently if I could do 
it all over again. The good times we have had 
are the most precious spots in all my life. And, 
Doro dear, you did not drag me out of my shell 
— I was always running after you for that matter, 
so you need not think the loneliness will be any 
fault of yours — except that you are such a dread- 
fully dear girl that no one could help loving you. 
You really should try to curb that fault.” 

Tavia had dried her tears. She was that sort 
of girl who is both too proud and too brave to 
show “ the white feather ” as she often expressed 
the failing of giving away to emotion that might 
distress others. 

“ I do wish you could go along,” said Dorothy. 


So DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ Well, I don’t believe I would really like to 
go, Doro,” Tavia surprised her by saying. ‘‘ I 
should probably get into all kinds of scrapes with 
that Green Violet, and the scrapes would likely 
make it unpleasant for you. Besides I have been 
thinking I ought to go to work. I am old enough 
to do something — fifteen next month you know 
— and I would just like to get right out into the 
world — go with the tide.” 

“ Tavia ! ” exclaimed Dorothy in alarm, for 
these rash sentiments had of late been strangely 
common with Tavia. “ You do not know what 
you are talking about. Go with the tide — ” 

“ Yes, I just mean take my chances with other 
girls. I had a letter from a girl in Rochester the 
other day. She had got work and she is no older 
than I am.” 

“ At what? ” asked Dorothy. 

“ On the stage. She is going to take part in 
some chorus work — -” 

“Tavia, dear!” cried Dorothy. “You must 
not get letters from such girls. On the stage! 
Why, that is the most dangerous work any girl 
could possibly get into.” 

“ Now, Doro, I have not got the place, worse 
luck. And you must not take on so just because 
I happened to mention the matter. But you must 


TAVIA’S DANGER 


8i 


realize there is a vast difference between poor 
girls like me, and those of your station in life ! ” 

What had come over Tavia lately? Why did 
she so dwell upon the difference between Dorothy’s 
means and her own? Was it a natural pride or 
a peculiar unrest — that unrest, perhaps, that so 
often leads others, who are older, stronger and 
wiser than Tavia Travers, into paths not the most 
elevating? And then they may urge the excuse 
that the world had been hard on them; that they 
could not find their place in life, when in reality 
they scorn to take the place offered them, and 
instead of trying for a better or higher mark 
they deliberately refuse the prospects held out, 
and turn backward — then they blame the world I 

This condition is called “ Social Unrest,” and 
Tavia Travers, though young and inexperienced, 
was having a taste of its bitter moral poison. 

“ Promise me you will never write another let- 
ter to that girl,” begged Dorothy, solemnly. “ I 
know your father would not permit it Tavia, and 
I know such influence is dangerous.” 

“ Why the idea ! You should have read her 
letter, Doro. She says the killingest things — But 
mercy, I must go. I have to go to the Green 
before tea,” and, with a reassuring kiss, Tavia 
darted off. 


82 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


Dorothy looked after her friend as she skipped 
down the path, and a sense of dread, of strange 
misgivings, took possession of her. What if 
Tavia should actually run away as she had often 
threatened in jest! Then Dorothy remembered 
how well Tavia danced, how she had practiced 
the “ stage fall ” after seeing the play in Roches- 
ter, and how little Johnnie Travers had barely 
escaped the falling ceiling that came down with 
Tavia’s attempt at tragedy. Then, too, Dorothy 
thought of the day Tavia had painted her cheeks 
with mullin leaves and how Dorothy then re- 
marked in alarm: “Tavia, you look like an 
actress I ” 

How strangely bright Tavia’s eyes seemed that 
day! How wonderfully pretty her short bronze 
locks fell against her unnaturally red cheeks ! 
All this now flashed through Dorothy’s dazed 
brain. 

How could she leave Tavia? And yet she 
would so soon have to go away — to that far-off 
school — 

And that strange girl who had come with Alice. 
What could she have meant by those horrid in- 
sinuations about Dorothy so “ suddenly making 
up her mind ” to go to boarding school ; and that 
it would be “ too bad to leave Tavia alone in 


TAVIA’S DANGER 


83 


Dalton just then ! ” as if everyone did not know 
by this time just what had happened on the auto 
ride, and that Ned had actually been offered the 
reward for the capture of Anderson. Not only 
this but her two cousins, Ned and Nat, had re- 
ceived public praise for brave conduct, and the 
two girls, whose names were not mentioned 
(Major Dale had asked the reporter to omit them 
if possible from the report) , were also spoken of 
as having taken part in the capture, inasmuch 
as they allowed Anderson to remain quietly in 
the car until the young owners of the machine 
arrived upon the scene. 

Dorothy sat there thinking it all over. It was 
almost dusk and on the little vine-clad porch the 
shadows of the honey-suckle shifted idly from 
Dorothy’s chair to the block of sunshine that was 
trying so bravely to keep the lonely girl com- 
pany — every other ray of sunlight had vanished, 
but that gleam seemed to stay with Dorothy. She 
did not fail to observe this, as she always noticed 
every kindness shown her, and she considered the 
“ ray of light ” as being very significant in the 
present rather gloomy situation. 

“ But I must not mope,” Dorothy told herself 
presently. “ I simply must talk the whole thing 
over with Aunt Winnie.” 


84 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


How much better for Tavia it would have been 
had she too determined to “ talk the whole thing 
over” with someone of experience? 

Dorothy found her aunt busy writing the board- 
ing school letters, and when that task had been 
finished Mrs. White was entirely at the girl’s 
service. Dorothy tried to unfold to her the situa- 
tion, without putting unnecessary blame on Tavia, 
who was such a jolly girl and so absolutely free 
from dread — never had been known to be afraid 
of anything, Dorothy declared, and of course there 
was therefore, all the more reason to be worried 
about her risks. To Tavia, a risk was synono- 
mous with sport. 

“ I had no idea she would be interested in that 
sort of thing,” said Mrs. White, referring to the 
matter of going on the stage, “ and, perhaps, Dor- 
othy—” 

“ But I am not at all sure that she is interested 
in it, auntie,” Dorothy interrupted. “ I am only 
afraid she may get more letters from that girl — 
And besides, I will be so lonely without her, and 
I know, she will miss me.” 

“ Well, there, little girl,” and the aunt kissed 
Dorothy’s cheek, “ you take things too seriously. 
We will see what can be done. I, too, like Tavia. 


TAVIA’S DANGER 85 

She is an impulsive girl, but as good as gold, and 
I will always be interested in her welfare.” 

“ Thank you, auntie dear. You are so kind 
and so generous. It would seem enough to be 
bothered with me, but to give you further trouble 
with my friends — ” 

“ Nonsense, my dear, it is no trouble whatever. 
I heartily enjoy having your confidences, and you 
may rest assured very little harm will come to the 
girl who chooses a wise woman for her adviser. 
And I do hope, Dorothy, I am wise in girls’ ways 
if not in points of law, as your dear father always 
contends.” 

“ And auntie,” went on Dorothy, rather tim- 
idly, “ I want to tell you something else. Alice 
MacAllister brought a girl to visit me this after- 
noon, and she said such strange things about yes- 
terday’s accidents. She was positively disagreea- 
ble.” 

“ You are too sensitive, child. Of course peo- 
ple will say strange things every time they get a 
chance — some people. But you must not bother 
your pretty head about such gossip. When you 
do what is right, good people will always think 
well of you and, after all, their opinion is all that 
we really care for, isn’t it?” 


86 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ But why should she be so rude? She is a 
perfect stranger to me ? ” 

“ Some girls think it smart to be rude, Dorothy, 
What did she say that troubled you so? ” 

“ That’s precisely it, auntie, no one could re- 
peat her remarks. They were merely insinuations 
and depended upon the entire conversation for 
their meaning.” 

“ Insinuations? Perhaps that you had been ar- 
rested for stealing melons? ” and the aunt laughed 
at the idea. “ Well, my dear, I believe it will 
be well for you to be away from all this country 
gossip.” 

“ But Viola Green goes to Glenwood School! ” 
declared Dorothy. 

“No! Really? Who is she?” 

“ A friend of Alice MacAllister, from Dunham. 
I was so surprised when she said she went to Glen- 
wood.” 

“ But, my dear, what will that matter? There 
are many girls at Glenwood. All you will have to 
do is to choose wisely in selecting your friends 
from among them.” 

“ If Tavia were only with me I would not need 
other friends,” demurred Dorothy. 

“Does she want to go?” asked Mrs. White 
suddenly. 


TAVIA’S DANGER 


87 


“ I believe she does, but she denies it. I think 
she' does that because she does not want me to 
bother about her. She is such a generous girl, 
auntie, and dislikes any one fussing over her.” 

“ There’s a step on the porch,” and both lis- 
tened. “ Yes,” continued Mrs. White, “ that’s 
Tavia looking for you. Run down to her and 
I will speak with both of you before she leaves.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


AN INVERTED JOKE 

‘‘ Dorothy ! Dorothy ! ” called Tavia. “ Come 
here just a minute. I want to speak to you.” 

“ Won’t you come in? ” asked Dorothy, making 
her way to the side porch. 

No, I can’t, really. But I couldn’t wait to 
tell you. I know what the Green Violet meant 
by her mean remarks. And it’s too killing. I 
am just dead laughing over it.” 

“ I’m glad it’s funny,” said Dorothy. 

“ The funniest ever,” continued Tavia. “ You 
know when we got out of the wagon Miss Green 
was standing a little way off from Alice. That 
dude, Tom Burbank, was with her (they say she 
always manages to get a beau), and she was watch- 
ing us alight — you know how she can watch : 
like a cat. Well, Tom asked Nat what was the 
matter, and if he had been speeding. Everybody 
seemed to know we had gone off in the auto, for 
which blessing I am duly grateful. I don’t often 
get a ride — ” 


88 . 


AN INVERTED JOKE 89 

“ Tavia, will you tell me the story?” asked 
Dorothy with some impatience. 

“ Coming to it ! Coming to it, my dear. But 
I never knew you to be so keen on a common, 
everyday story before,” answered Tavia, with pro- 
voking delay. 

“ The remarks? ” 

“ Oh, yes, as I was saying, Tom asked Nat 
were we speeding. And Nat said no. Then, 
looking down at his farmer clothes, he added: 
‘ Not speeding, just melons.* And the dude be- 
lieved him, — the goose ! Then Viola took it all 
in and she too thinks we were arrested for steal- 
ing muskmelons.” 

The idea seemed so absurd to Tavia that she 
went off into a new set of laughs, knotted together 
with groans — she had laughed so long that the 
process became actually painful. 

“Who told you?” asked Dorothy, as soon as 
Tavia had quieted herself sufficiently to hear any- 
thing. 

“ May Egner. She stood by and heard the 
whole thing. But you must not mention it to 
Alice,” cautioned Tavia, “ for she didn’t hear it, 
and I just want the Green Violet to think it is true, 
every word. It’s a positive charity to give that 
girl something definitely mean to think about. I 


90 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


can see her mental picture of you and Nat and 
myself standing in a police court pleading ‘ Guilty ’ 
to being caught in a melon patch. Wish we had 
thought of it: there were plenty along that road, 
and I have not tasted a fresh muskmelon since I 
stole the last one from the old Garrabrant place. 
Ummm ! but that was good ! ” 

“ Well, I am glad it is no worse,” remarked 
Dorothy. “ I had a suspicion she was trying to 
insinuate something like that. And the idea of 
her not believing that Nat was my cousin ! ” 

“ Oh, yes, and that was more of it,” went on 
Tavia. “ Tom asked Nat if I was his cousin and 
he said yes. Wasn’t Nat funny to tease so? But 
who could blame him? I wish I had a chance to 
get my say in, I would have given Greenie a story 1 
Not only melons, but a whole farm for mine ! ” 

“ Lucky you were otherwise engaged then. I 
noticed you had your hands full answering the 
questions of that crowd of small boys,” remarked 
Dorothy, smiling at the remembrance of Tavia’s 
struggle with the curious ones. 

“ But, Doro, are you really going away?” and 
Tavia’s voice assumed a very different tone — it 
was mournful indeed. 

“ Yes, I think it is quite decided. I would not 
mind it so much if you were coming.” 


AN INVERTED JOKE 


91 


“ Me ? Poor me ! No boarding school for my 
share. They do not run in our family,” and she 
sighed. 

“ But perhaps your fairy godmother might help 
you,” went on Dorothy. “ She has granted your 
wishes before.” 

“ Yes, and I promised her that time I would 
never trouble her again. There is a limit, you 
know, even to fairy godmothers.” 

At that moment Mrs. White appeared on the 
porch. 

“ What was that I heard about godmothers? ” 
she asked. “ You know, Dorothy, I hold that sa- 
cred position towards you, and you must not let any 
one malign the title,” she said, laughingly. 

“ Oh, this was the fairy kind,” replied Dorothy. 
“ Tavia was just saying she had promised to let 
hers off without further requests after the last was 
granted.” 

“ When Doro goes away to school,” interrupted 
Tavia, “ I shall either become a nun or — ” 

“ Go with her! How would that do? ” asked 
Mrs. White, convinced that the parting of Dor- 
othy and Tavia would mean a direct loss for 
both. 

“ If I worked this year and earned the money 
to go next? Or do they consider the wage-earn- 


92 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


ing class debarred from boarding school socifety ? ” 
asked Tavia. 

Again the sentiment Tavia had expressed to 
Dorothy: the difference in the classes. This was 
becoming a habit to Tavia, the habit of almost 
sneering at those who appeared better off than 
herself. And yet, as Mrs. White scrutinized her, 
she felt it was not a sentiment in any way allied 
to jealousy, but rather regret, or the sense of loss 
that the lot of Tavia Travers had been cast in a 
different mold to that of Dorothy Dale. It had 
to do entirely with Tavia’s love for Dorothy. 

“ Now, my dear,” began Mrs. White, address- 
ing Tavia, “ you really must not speak that way. 
You know there is a class of people, too prominent 
nowadays, who believe that the rights of others 
should be their rights. That there should be no 
distinction in the ownership of property — ” 

“ Gloriotious ! ” exclaimed Tavia. “Do you 
suppose they would let me in their club? ” 

“ I’ll tell you, girls,” said Mrs. White. 
“ Squire Travers is going to call here this even- 
ing by appointment. And if you are both very, 
very good little girls, pe^-haps I will have some 
very important news to give you in the morning.” 

At this both Tavia and Dorothy “ took steps,” 
Tavia doing some original dance while Dorothy 


AN INVERTED JOKE 


93 


was content to join in the swing that her partner 
so violently insisted upon taking at every turn. 

Mrs. White laughed merrily at seeing the 
girls dance there in the honeysuckle-lined porch, 
and she was now more positive than ever that their 
companionship should not be broken. 

“All hands around!” called Tavia, at which 
invitation the stately society lady could not re- 
frain from joining in the dance herself, and she 
went around and around until it was Dorothy who 
first had to give in and beg to be let out of the ring. 

“ Oh 1 ” sighed Mrs. White, quite exhausted, 
“ that is the best real dance I have had in years — 
quite like our dear old German.” 

“ They call it the Virginia Reel in Dalton,” 
said Tavia, not meaning to deprecate the value 
of the society dance mentioned. 

“ Yes, and that is the correct name, too,” agreed 
Mrs. White, “ for almost all the good figures of 
the German were taken from the old time couptry 
dance. But I am warm! I must go in at once 
or I may check this perspiration too quickly. 
Dorothy, don’t walk too far with Tavia,” she re- 
marked, as both girls prepared to leave the porch, 
“ I have some little things to talk over before 
tea.” 

“ Only to the turn,” replied Dorothy, with her 


94 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


arm wound lovingly around Tavia, “ I just want 
to finish about something very Important.” 

“ She must go with Dorothy,” said Mrs. White 
to herself, watching the two girls make their way 
through the soft autumn twilight. 


CHAPTER IX 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 

“ Isn’t it too delicious,” exclaimed Tavia, ex- 
citedly. 

“ Delightful,” answered Dorothy. “ I hope 
hereafter you will never doubt the goodness of 
your fairy godmother.” 

“ Or that of my fairy godsister,” added Tavia. 

“ And Aunt Winnie is to do all your shopping. 
Your mother asked her to get everything you will 
need. The money you received from the rail- 
road company for the loss of your hair in the ac- 
cident has been put aside by your father for your 
education. So you cannot longer boast of that ro- 
mantic poverty you have been holding over my 
poor, innocent head,” and Dorothy gave her 
friend a “ knowing squeeze,” that kind of em- 
brace that only girl friends understand fully. 

“ I can scarcely realize it,” pondered Tavia, 
“ not to have you leave me here all alone ! Why, 
Doro, I could not sleep nights, worrying about 
95 


96 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


what would become of me in this hamlet without 
you.” 

“ And I was equally tortured with worries about 
what would become of me, when I could not tell 
you all my troubles. Especially when I thought 
of having to — ” 

“ Fight the Green Violet alone ! I don’t blame 
you. But I am just dying to know what use she 
will make of the muskmelon story. I met Alice 
yesterday and she felt dreadfully about the way 
Viola acted. She is coming over to apologize to 
you as soon as she can do so without carting the 
vegetable along. Pity they did not name her 
cucumber instead of violet — the green would 
match her better. I am going to call her ‘ Cuke ’ 
hereafter! Short for cucumber, you know.” 

“ Oh, that would be unkind,” objected Dor- 
othy. 

“ Unkind nothing,” replied the impulsive one. 
“ I wish I could think of a good rhyme for her 
new name. I would pass it around — ” 

“ Now, Tavia, you must not keep me worrying 
about the mischievous things you intend to do at 
Glenwood. Remember that is one of the stipula- 
tions — you are to be very, very good.” 

“ I feel a sore spot under my shoulder blade 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 97 


now,” declared Tavia, putting her hand back. 
“ Wings as sure as you live, just feel! ” 

“ But do you realize it, we have only this week? 
We must be in Glenwood next Monday.” 

“ All the better. I cannot wait. Won’t it be 
too gloriotious ? ” and Tavia again indulged in 
“ steps,” her favorite outlet for pent-up sentiment. 

“ The boys are coming over to-morrow after- 
noon,” announced Dorothy, “ I had a note from 
Ned this morning.” 

‘‘ Goody,” exclaimed Tavia, coming to a full 
stop with a twirl that stood for the pedal period. 
“Another ride?” 

“ No, I’m afraid not. Ned said he and Nat 
were going to spend the afternoon with us.” 

“ Well, it will be fun anyway. It always is 
when the boys get jollying. I am afraid I do love 
boys — next to you, Doro, I think a real nice boy 
is the very nicest human possible.” 

“ Next to me? On the other side you mean? ” 

“ No, on the second side, the boy is on the out- 
side of the argument. You are always first, 
Doro.” 

Meanwhile the news, that Dorothy and Tavia 
were to leave Dalton for a school in New Eng- 
land, had spread among their former school com- 


98 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


panions. Alice MacAllister, Sarah Ford, May 
Egner and a number of others had held a little 
consultation over the matter and decided that some 
sort of testimonial should be arranged to give their 
friends a parting acknowledgment of the regard 
and esteem in which Dalton school girls held 
Tavia Travers and Dorothy Dale. Of course 
Tavia was never as popular as Dorothy had al- 
ways been — she was too antagonistic, and insisted 
upon having too much fun at the expense of oth- 
ers. But, now that she was leaving them, the 
girls admitted she had been a “ jolly good fel- 
low,” and they would surely miss her mischief if 
nothing more. 

May Egner wanted the committee of arrange- 
ments to make the affair a “ Linen Shower ” such 
as brides are given. 

“ Because,” argued the practical May, “ It will 
be so nice to have a lovely lot of handkerchiefs 
and collars. No one can have too many.” 

“ Well, we can Include the shower if you like,” 
said Alice, who was chairman, “ but I vote for a 
lawn party, with boys invited.” 

“A lawn party with boys! ” chorused the ma- 
jority, In enthusiastic approval. 

“ I think it would be a charity to let the Dalton 
boys come to something,” declared Sarah Ford. 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 99 


“ If we leave them out all the time, by and by, 
when we want someone to take us home on a 
dark night — ” 

“ When you stay chinning too long with Ro- 
berta,” interrupted a girl who knew Sarah’s weak- 
ness for “ dragging along the way.” 

“ Well, you may be out in the dark some time 
yourself, Nettie, and it is very nice to have — ” 

“ A very nice boy — ” 

“ Order! Order! ” called the chairman. “ We 
have voted to Invite them and — ” 

‘‘ It’s up to them,” persisted Nettie Niles, who, 
next to Tavla Travers, had the reputation and 
privilege of using more slang than any other well- 
bred girl in Dalton. 

“ It is to be a lawn party then,” declared the 
chairman, with befitting dignity. ‘‘ And we have 
only one day to arrange the whole thing.” 

“ I’ll collect the boys,” volunteered the Irre- 
pressible Nettle. 

“ Then you are appointed a committee of one 
to invite all the nice boys In the first class,” said 
Alice, much to the surprise of the joker. 

“And not any other? ” pouted Nettle. “ If I 
should run across a real nice little fellow, with 
light curly hair, and pale pink cheeks, and — 
and—” 


loo DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ New tennis suit,” suggested someone, who had 
seen Nettle walking home with a boy of the tennis- 
suit description. 

“ Oh, yes,” agreed the chairman, “ I forgot to 
include Charlie. He Is not now at Dalton school, 
but of course. Nettle, you may invite Charlie.” 

“ Thanks,” said Nettle, determined not to be 
abashed by the teasing. 

“We will have cake and lemonade,” proposed 
May Egner. 

“ I’m glad I only have to bring boys,” said 
Nettle aside, “ I couldn’t bake a cake to save me.” 

“ And I’ll bring a whole pan of fresh taffy,” 
volunteered Sarah. 

“ Put me down for two dozen lemons,” offered 
May Egner, who seemed to think the entire suc- 
cess of a lawn party depended upon the refreshing 
lemonade. 

“ Where shall we have It? ” asked Alice. 

The girls glanced around at the splendid lawn 
upon which the little meeting was being held. It 
was the MacAllister place, and had the reputation 
of being well-kept besides affording a recreation 
ground for the family — the secret of the combi- 
nation lay in the extent of the grounds: they might 
be walked upon, but were never trampled upon. 
Mr. MacAllister made It a rule that games should 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS loi 


be kept to their restricted provinces, as the tennis 
court and croquet grounds: other games should 
never be indulged in on the range close to the 
house or near the paths. “ Plenty of room to 
play tag in the orchard,” he would tell the chil- 
dren, and this plan kept the place in an enviable 
condition. 

“ The schoolyard is awfully dry and dusty,” 
remarked Nettie in answer to the question of a site 
for the party. 

“ You are welcome to come here,” said Alice, 
modestly. 

“ Oh, that would be splendid ! ” declared May, 
whereat all the others voiced similar sentiments. 

It was promptly decided that the invitation to 
hold the affair on the MacAllister grounds should 
be accepted with thanks, and as there remained not 
many hours of the day to attend to arrangements, 
as the next afternoon would bring them to the test, 
the girls hastily scattered to begin their respective 
duties in the matter. 

Viola Green was present at the meeting. Alice 
had told her of its purpose, and as only a few days 
remained of the time allotted Viola to remain at 
Dalton, Alice was not sorry when her visitor 
pleaded another engagement. 

That engagement consisted of a promise to walk 


102 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


through the Green with Tom Burbank — he, too, 
was a stranger in Dalton, spending a week of his 
holiday with the Bennet family. 

Viola could boast of a well-filled trunk of styl- 
ish clothes, and in no other place, of the many she 
had visited during her vacation, had this ward- 
robe shown to such advantage as in Dalton. Even 
the attractive linens that Alice was invariably 
gowned in (except on Sundays, when she wore a 
simple summer silk) , seemed of “ back date ” com- 
pared with the showy dresses Viola exhibited. 
They were stylish in that acceptance of the term 
that made them popular, but were not distinctive, 
and would probably be entirely out of date by the 
following summer. 

On this particular afternoon Viola wore a deep 
blue crepe with shaded ribbons, a dress, according 
to the feminine ethics of Dalton, “ fit for a party.’’ 

Tom Burbank sported white flannels, a very 
good summer suit indeed, but a little out of the 
ordinary in Dalton. It was not to be wondered 
at, then, that the appearance of these two strang- 
ers attracted some attention on the Green. Nei- 
ther could it be doubted that such attention was 
flattering to Viola, a stylishly dressed girl often 
enjoys being credited with her efforts. 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 103 


“ Wasn’t that the greatest,” Tom was drawling 
to Viola, “ about those folks riding in the police 
wagon.” 

“ Disgraceful, I should say,” replied Viola, em- 
phatically. 

“ And the fellow in the — farmer’s duds. 
Wasn’t he a sight? ” and the young man chuckled 
at the thought of Nat in the overalls and jumper, 

“ And those two girls are going to Glenwood — 
the boarding school I attend ! ” and Viola’s lip 
curled in hauteur. 

“ The dickens they are I I — beg your pardon, 
but I was so surprised,” said Tom. 

“ I don’t blame you. I was equally surprised 
myself. In fact, I guess everyone was — they 
made up their minds so suddenly. I suppose — ” 
Then Viola stopped. 

“Well, what do you suppose?” 

“ Perhaps I shouldn’t say it — ” 

“Why not? Can’t you trust me ? ” 

“ Oh, it wasn’t that. But it might seem un- 
kind.” 

“ Nonsense,” and the young man gave Viola a 
reassuring look. “ A thing said in good faith is 
never unkind.” 

“ I’m so glad you feel that way. Alice is so 


104 DOROTIiY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


different, and I have been just dying to talk to 
somebody — somebody who would look at things 
as I do. Sometimes I am almost homesick.” 

“ I suppose you are,” said the youth, falling a 
victim to the girl’s coquetry as readily as water 
runs down hill. “ A fellow is never that way — 
homesick, I mean; but for a girl — ” 

“ Oh, yes,” sighed Viola, “ this visiting is not 
all it is supposed to be. Alice is a lovely girl, of 
course, but — ” 

“ A trifle high flown,” said Tom, trying to help 
the faltering girl with her criticism. 

“ And so strangely fascinated with that Dor- 
othy.” Viola toyed evasively with the stick of 
her parasol. “ Of course she is a pretty girl — ” 
“ Too yellow — I mean too blondy,” said Tom, 
feeling obliged to say something against Dorothy. 
“ Do you know her cousin, Nat White? ” 

“ Not very well, I only met him the other night. 
But he seems like a decent fellow.” 

“ I cannot imagine any boy allowing two girls 
to get in such a predicament,” said Viola, “ feeling 
her way ” to further criticism. 

“ It was rough, but then you see he was not 
with them, he had gone to the blacksmith shop to 
get something fixed, I believe.” 

“ Oh, they were alone ! ” and Viola had gained 


COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 105 


one point. “Was it really melons, do you sup- 
pose?” 

“ So he said, but he seemed to take the whole 
thing as a joke. Ginger ! It was funny to go out 
in a red flyer and come back in a Black Maria.” 
and Tom laughed at his own attempt at a pun. 

“ Then, when the cousin came back the girls 
were in the police patrol? That accounts for it. 
I could not possibly see how any young fellow 
could allow girls to get into such a scrape,” per- 
sisted Viola. 

“ Yes,” said Tom vaguely, not being at all par- 
ticular as to what was the nature of the remark he 
had given acquiescence to. 

“ But to be arrested! ” went on Viola. 

“ Were they arrested? ” asked Tom in surprise. 

“ Why, of course,” declared Viola. “ Didn’t 
Mr. White say so ? ” 

“ Oh, I suppose he did. That is — I really 
had not looked at it that way. I thought it was 
some kind of joke.” 

But Tom had said, “ Yes,” Nat told him they 
had been arrested! And Tom Burbank never in- 
tended to say anything of the kind ! Viola Green 
with her pretty clothes and pretty looks had “ put 
tb- words into his mouth and had taken them out 
again ! ” 


io6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“We must be going! ” said Viola, leaving her 
seat beside the little fish pond in the park. “ I 
suppose I shall see you at the lawn party ? ’’ 

“ If I am invited? ” 

“ Then I invite you now. You need not say 
you got my invitation before the others were out 
— but be sure to come 1 ” 


CHAPTER X 


A LAWN PARTY “ WITH BOYS ! ” 

The day was perfect — an item of much im- 
portance where lawn parties are concerned. Dor- 
othy and Tavia were kept in ignorance of the tes- 
timonial that had been arranged in their honor, 
and were now, at one hour before the appointed 
time, dressing for an afternoon with Alice. Ned 
and Nat were to go with them and then — 

“ I am going to dress in my brand new challie,” 
Tavia announced to Dorothy, as she left for that 
operation. “ I’ll show Miss Cucumber what I 
can look like when I do dress up.” 

‘‘ I’ll wear my cadet blue linen,” said Dorothy. 
“ I think that such a pretty dress.” 

“ Splendiforous ! ” agreed Tavia, “and so im- 
mensely becoming. Well, let us get there on time. 
I am just dying to say things at, not to, Miss 
Cuke.” 

“ Tavia I ” but that young lady was out of reach 
of the admonition Dorothy was wont to admin- 
ister. The Green Violet, the Green Vegetable 
107 


io8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


and all the other Greens seemed sufficiently abus- 
ive to Dorothy, but she was determined not to 
tolerate the latest epithet Tavia had coined to take 
the place of that name — Viola Green. 

“ Of course,” admitted Dorothy, reflecting upon 
Tavia’s new word, “ Viola does seem sour, and 
her name is Green, but that is no reason why we 
should make an enemy of her. She might make 
it very unpleasant at Glenwood School.” 

Ned and Nat arrived just as Dorothy finished 
dressing. They had been invited over the tele- 
phone by Alice, who, in taking them into the lawn 
party plot, had arranged that they bring Dor- 
othy and Tavia ostensibly to spend the afternoon 
with her. 

Scarcely had the cousins’ greeting been ex- 
changed when Tavia made her appearance. She 
did look well in the new challie — one of the 
school dresses so lately acquired through Mrs. 
White’s good management. 

“ We had better go at once,” said Ned, after 
speaking a word to Tavia. “ I am really anxious 
to become better acquainted with Miss Alice. She 
seems such a jolly girl.” 

“ And as good as gold ! ” declared Dorothy 
warmly. “ We all just love Alice! ” 


A LAWN PARTY “WITH BOYS”! 


109 


‘‘ I am sure you do. I would to — if I had a 
chance,” joked Ned. 

Along the road Tavia was with Nat as usual, 
trying to find some heretofore unfound item of in- 
terest in reviewing the ride in the police wagon. 
But concerning the interference of the stranger, 
Viola Green, Tavia was silent. Nat might say 
something that would spoil Tavia’s idea of the 
joke on Viola. 

Reaching the MacAllister gate both boys won- 
dered that no sign of the festivities were appar- 
ent. Even upon the very threshold of the stately 
old mansion not a sound betrayed the expected 
lawn party. Alice answered the ring and, with a 
pleasant greeting, showed the company into the 
reception room, then, as she drew back the por- 
tiers opening up the long parlor there was a wild 
shout : 

“ Surprise 1 Surprise on Dorothy 1 Surprise on 
Tavia 1 ” And the next moment there was such 
an ‘‘ outpouring,” as Tavia termed the hilarip , 
that neither Dorothy nor Tavia could find herself, 
so tangled had each one become with all the oth- 
ers in their joyous enthusiasm. 

It was a complete surprise. This fact made 
the affair especially enjoyable — girls do love to 


no DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

keep secrets in spite of all proverbial statements to 
the contrary. 

“Didn’t you even guess?” quizzed May Eg- 
ner, addressing Dorothy. 

“ Never suspected a thing,” declared Dorothy, 
as she finally managed to make her way to a cozy 
little seat in the arch, and there ensconced, began a 
pleasant chat with May Egner. 

“ Nettie is responsible for the boys,” May be- 
gan. “ She was a committee of one on them. But 
she declares she never invited that Tom Burbank, 
see him over there with Viola? And Alice is a 
little put out about it. He is a stranger, you 
know, and none of the boys seem to take him up.” 

“ I am glad there are boys here,” remarked 
Dorothy, looking pleasantly about the room and 
noting how well the Dalton boys had turned out, 
and what a really good-looking set they were. 
“ But surely someone must have invited Tom Bur- 
bank.” 

, “ I suspect Viola,” whispered May. “ She 
seems to have something private to say to him and 
insists no one else shall hear it. Just see where 
they are.” 

In a most secluded nook indeed, a very small 
cozy corner under the stairway, could be seen the 
pair in question. Viola looked particularly 


A LAWN PARTY “ WITH BOYS ” ! 


Ill 


pretty in a light green muslin that brought out to 
perfection the delicate tints of her rather pale 
face. Her dark hair was turned up in a “ bun,” 
and it might be said, in passing, that no other girl 
in the room had assumed such a young lady-like 
effect. This, with her society manners, and Tom 
at her elbow, easily gave Viola a star position at 
the lawn party. 

Tavia was still gasping over her “ surprise.” 
The boys found it a matter of ease to become at 
once a part of the party where Tavia was con- 
cerned. They might have felt a trifle awkward 
before she came, this being the social debut of 
most of them, but when Tavia, “ got going,” as 
they expressed it, there was an end to all embar- 
rassment. 

Like a queen she sat on the low couch, her head 
thrown back in mock scorn, while not less than 
a half dozen boys wielded palm leaf fans about 
her, in true oriental fashion. Someone brought 
a hassock for her feet, then another ran to the 
porch and promptly returned with a long spray of 
honeysuckle that was pressed into a crown for 
her head; Alice confiscated a Japanese parasol 
from the side wall for her “ slave ” to shade her 
with and then — 

The couch was the kind without a back support^ 


1 12 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


cartridge cushions under the rolled ends finishing 
the antique design. Against one of these Tavia 
was resting, but no sooner had all her accessories 
been completed than her suite fell into line, four 

slaves ” making hold of the couch, lifting it ma- 
jestically from its place, and with the air of Roman 
history, “ gents solemnly marching off with the 
queen and her retinue in full swing. 

George Mason was chief waver — that is, he 
had the post of honor, next the “ chariot ” with his 
fan. 

“ Ki-ah! ” he called, “ Tavy-wavy-Ki-yah ! ” 

This was the signal for a solemn chant in which 
all of the twenty boys present, including Ned and 
Nat, but not Tom Burbank, participated. 

“ Ki-ah ! ” called the leader. 

“ Ki-ah ! ” answered the retinue. 

“ Loddy-Shoddy, Wack-fi-Oddy Ki-ah!” sang 
out the head “ Yamma,” while Queen Octavia 
smiled majestically at her subjects, and bore the 
honor thrust upon her as gracefully as if born heir 
to an Indian throne. 

The girls were bending and fanning and bow- 
ing, some even endeavoring to kiss the queen’s 
hand as she passed. 

“ It takes boys to find fun,” remarked Alice, 
“ But see here, Yum-kim, or Loddy-Shoddy, who- 


A LAWN PARTY “WITH BOYS’’! 115 

ever may be in authority,” called Alice, “ please 
bring back that couch, very carefully now, when 
you have dumped the queen on the lawn.” 

At this the slaves stopped, but did not dump 
their queen. Instead, they slowly lowered the 
chariot, and even assisted her to alight. 

“ Thanks, awfully,” said Tavia, in common 
English, ‘‘ I suppose that honor is saved for most 
persons’ funerals. It’s something to have tried it 
— I think Indian funeral marches perfectly lovely. 
I must die in India.” 

“ Funeral march I Well, I like that 1 ” groaned 
George Mason. “ Of all the frosts — ” 

“ That, my dear queen,” declared Ralph Wil- 
son, “ was your triumphant procession-all 1 Did 
you notice the procesh? Funeral indeed! You 
would never get off that easy with a funeral in In- 
dia.” 

Viola was standing on the porch smiling 
pleasantly. Somehow she seemed very agreeable 
to-day. Dorothy noticed how cordially she had 
greeted her, and even Tavia felt she should cer- 
tainly have to be civil to the “ Green Violet*” if 
the latter kept her “ manners going.” 

“ Introduce me to your cousins,” said Viola 
affably, coming up to where Dorothy stood. 

“ Certainly,” answered Dorothy. “ I was 


114 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

waiting for an opportunity. The queen-show 
took all our attention.” 

“ Wasn’t it splendid,” and Viola seemed to have 
enjoyed the fun. “ I do think boys do the funni- 
est things.” 

“ Yes, they certainly are original. I have two 
small brothers and they keep me going.” 

“ How lovely to have brothers ! ” remarked 
Viola. “ I am all alone at home.” 

“ It must be lonely,” sympathized Dorothy, 
‘‘ but then, you can have everything your own 
way.” 

“ Just like lying abed on a holiday,” said Viola, 
“ one never enjoys it. I believe we always want 
what we cannot get, and scarcely ever appreciate 
what we have.” 

“ I find it that way sometimes,” admitted Dor- 
othy, “ but to make sure I am not mistaken I often 
suppose myself without that which I fail to appre- 
ciate. It is a good test of one’s real self, you 
know.” 

“ But a lot of trouble,” sighed Viola. “ I take 
things as they come — and always want more, or 
to be rid of some. But I have one real love, and 
that’s music. I was called Viola because my dear 
grandfather was a celebrated violinist, and perhaps 
that is why I have such a passion for music.” 


A LAWN PARTY “WITH BOYS”! 115 

“ Do you play? ” asked Dorothy, interested. 

‘‘ Yes, I study the piano and violin, but of 
course I like the violin best. There is one of your 
cousins — ” 

“ Nat! ’’ called Dorothy, as that boy ran across 
the lawn. “ Come over here a minute, if you can 
spare time from that un-understandable game.” 

“Don’t you know that game?” asked Nat, 
coming up to the rustic bench upon which the two 
girls were seated. “ Why, I’m surprised. That 
is a genuine American game ‘ Follow the 
Leader.’ ” 

“ Let me introduce you to a friend,” began 
Dorothy, indicating Viola. “ This is Miss Green 
— Mr. Nat White.” 

Nat bowed and spoke pleasantly — he was no 
country boy. Viola had noticed that long ago. 

“ Viola has just been telling me her one hobby 
is music,” said Dorothy, to start the small talk, 
“ and she studies the violin. I think it so much 
more interesting than the piano,” she commented. 

“ Oh, I’ve tried it,” admitted Nat. “ It is 
more interesting for others, but when it comes 
home to a fellow it is awfully scratchy and monot> 
onous. But I suppose Miss Viola has gone past 
that period. I stuck there.” 

“ That is because you did not start early 


1 6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


enough,” said Viola. “ To do anything with the 
violin one ought to start before the squeaks and 
scratches can be realized.” 

“ Good idea,” agreed Nat. “ That work 
should certainly be done in the — sub — conscious 
state.” 

“ I’ll leave you to settle the violin,” said 
Dorothy, “ while I pay my respects to Mrs. Mac- 
Allister. She has just come out, and wasn’t it 
splendid of her to let us all come here? ” 

Dorothy made her way across the lawn to the 
knot of girls where Mrs. MacAllister was grace- 
fully presiding. 

But instantly Tavia saw that Nat was alone 
with Viola — the very thing she wanted to avoid. 
Nat might tell her the truth about the “ chariot 
race,” as the police patrol ride had become known. 
Besides, Viola cc^vld find out so many things from 
an unsuspecting boy. 

“ Come with me,” said Tavia to Nettie, drag- 
ging the innocent girl along. “ I want to pre- 
sent you to a friend of mine. Do you see that 
boy over there? The best looking fellow here? 
Well, he’s a friend of mine.” 

“Delighted — I’m sure,” agreed Nettie. 
“But what about the other girl? Miss Nile 
Green?” 


A LAWN PARTY “WITH BOYS”! 117 

“ Cut her out,” said Tavia, in her most business- 
like way, using the slang with the old as well as 
the newer significance. 

“ Certainly,” responded Nettie, with a coquettish 
toss of her head. “ I’m on the boys committee — 
as a matter of fact they are all here in my care,” 
and straightforth the pair made for Viola’s bench. 

“Wasn’t it too funny!” Viola was exclaiming 
as Tavia came up. 

“ I should think so,” they heard Nat answer, 
“ But Dorothy was ready to — ” 

“ Hush ! ” whispered Viola, but the warning was 
just a moment too late, for Tavia heard it. Then 
Viola said something that Tavia did not hear. 

Nat was very pleasant to Nettie. It was evi- 
dent the introduction had broken in on something 
interesting to Viola, if not to Nat, but he gave no 
sign of the interference being annoying, although 
the girl was not so tactful. 

“ Nettie is the committee on boys,” declared 
Tavia, “ so I thought it high time she had a 
chance to censure you — I mean to look over 
your credentials.” 

“ Well, if you and the others would join me in 
a swallow of that lemonade I see under yonder 
tree. Miss Nettie, — No, not you Tavia, nor Miss 
Green? Then we will have to drink alone,, for I 


ii8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

am deadly thirsty,” and at this he walked away 
with Nettie, leaving Viola on the bench with 
Tavia. 

“ Oh, there’s Tom looking for me,” exclaimed 
Viola, jumping up instantly, “ won’t you let me in- 
troduce you, Tavia?” (she actually said Tavia!) 
“ He’s a stranger and some out of place.” 

“ Yes,” said Tavia vaguely, probably referring 
to the “ out of place ” clause, and not exactly giv- 
ing assent to the introduction. 

Then came Viola’s turn — she left Tavia with 
Tom and as promptly made her own escape! 

“ Of all the — clams,” Tavia was saying to her- 
self, rather rudely, it must be confessed. 

But Tom evidently liked Tavia, at any rate he 
talked to her and showed a remarkable aptness in 
keeping up the tete-a-tete, “ against all comers,” 
said Nat to himself, noticing the monopoly. 

‘‘ That’s the time Miss Tavia was beaten at her 
own game,” was Viola’s secret comment. “ How 
glad I am to get rid of that bore. I heartily wish 
I — that he had not been asked.” 

“What do you think of that?” inquired Alice 
of Dorothy, observing the girl’s change of part--^ 
ners. “Look at Nat with Viola and Tavia with 
Tom!” 

“ I would like to hear what Tavia has to say,” 


A LAWN PARTY “WITH BOYS”! 119 

and Dorothy smiled at the idea of Tavia’s possible 
conversation. ‘‘ I’m just dying to tell her that 
Viola’s name did not come from the vegetable 
kingdom.” 

“We had really better break up these little con- 
fabs,” said Alice, feeling her responsibility as host- 
ess, “ or we may have reason to doubt the advisa- 
bility of giving a lawn party with boys.” 

“ The simplest games will be the most enjoyable, 
I think,” suggested Dorothy. “ I would begin 
with ‘ drop the handkerchief.’ ” 

“ Fine idea,” replied Alice. “ But notice how 
many times Tom gets a ‘ drop.’ I’ll bet the girls 
will be afraid he would keep the handkerchief. 
He looks girlie enough to fancy one with lace on,” 
and at this Alice went forth to inaugurate the old- 
time game. 


CHAPTER XI 


OFF FOR GLENWOOD 

The lawn party ended in a shower; not only a 
linen shower as May Egner had planned, but in a 
specific downpour of rain. The day, so beautifully 
promising, suddenly changed colors and sent, from 
a sky of inky blackness, one of the heaviest rain- 
falls of the season. But this change only added 
sport to the festivities, for a game of blindman’s 
buff had to be finished in the dining-room, and the 
way the boys ducked under the big table actually 
put the “ blind man ” (Nettie) out of business. 

It had been a splendid afternoon, every mo- 
ment of the hours spent seemed to all present the 
best time of their gay young lives, and that Viola 
had contributed to the merriment and made herself 
particularly agreeable, left nothing to be wished 
for, Alice thought. 

Dorothy and Tavia felt that the time had come 
to make their adieux, and were about to undertake 
that task when, at a signal from Alice, the room 


120 


OFF FOR GLENWOOD 


I2I 


was suddenly filled with flying bits of linen — the 
other shower. 

“Hurrah!” cried the boys, catching the gifts 
and tossing them up again and again. 

“Fen!” called Tavia, using a marble game 
expression, but the boys would not desist. They 
liked the linen shower first-rate, and insisted on 
keeping it going. 

“ Then let us snowball the travelers,” suggested 
Sarah Ford, and at this Dorothy and Tavia were 
forced into a corner and completely snowed under 
with the linen. 

When the excitement had subsided, and the gifts 
were counted, Dorothy found she had fourteen 
beautiful dainty little handkerchiefs, four hand- 
made collars, and a darling pink and white linen 
bag. This last gift was from Alice, and had Dor- 
othy’s name done in a tiny green vine, with dots of 
pale lavender violets peeping through. This was 
such a beautiful piece that Alice admitted she had 
worked on it sometime previous to the party, in- 
tending to keep it for Dorothy’s birthday gift. 

Next Tavia counted twelve handkerchiefs, and 
seven collars. She declared the girls knew she 
never had a decent collar, and, in her profuse 
thanks, almost wept with joy at the unexpected 
blessing. 


122 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


“It’s the collar that makes the girl,” she as- 
sured those who stood about her admiring her 
treasures, “ and I never could make the collar. So 
you see you have saved me from disgracing Dor- 
othy at Glenwood. I suppose every boarding 
school girl sports the hand-made variety.” 

“ And to think that I cannot give a party in 
Dalton to pay you back,” remarked Dorothy, as 
she was saying good-bye to a group of girls and 
boys in the hall. “We are going to move to 
North Birchland, you know.” 

But the girls did not know, and the information 
was received with much regret — everyone would 
miss the Dales. The girls would miss Dorothy, 
the boys would miss Joe, and as for Roger, he 
had always been a neighborhood pet. Then Ma- 
jor Dale was a popular citizen, besides being es- 
pecially endeared to many whom he had befriended 
with money and advice. 

“ But you will come down to see us on your 
holidays,” insisted the boys and girls, “ and per- 
haps we can get something up so that we may have 
a reunion.” 

Dorothy agreed to this, and then, when all the 
good-byes had been said, and all the earnest pro- 
testations of affection expressed, the merry-mak- 
ers dispersed, making their way through the wet 


OFF FOR GLENWOOD 


123 


and muddy roads, but happy with a clear sky above 
— for some of the girls wore real party dresses 
and the shower had made them apprehensive until 
it stopped. 

Dorothy and Tavia remained to thank Alice 
and Mrs. MacAllister for all the trouble they had 
taken. During the conversation Viola assured the 
girls they would be delighted with Glenwood and 
said it was a pity Alice had to stay longer at Dal- 
ton school to finish a special course. 

“ Because,” said Viola, “ we could have such 
glorious times all together.” 

“ Do you think,” said Tavia, as she took Dor- 
othy’s arm and “ picked her steps,” across the wet 
road on her way home, “ that Viola really means 
it? That she is glad we are going to Glenwood? ” 

“ I wouldn’t like to say,” hesitated Dorothy. 
“ She has such an odd way. All afternoon she 
acted to me like one who had gained some point 
and was satisfied.” 

“ Then I didn’t get her away from Nat in time,” 
declared Tavia. “ I heard her say something sus- 
picious as I came up to them. No use asking Nat 
what he told her, he would invent something to 
tease me and — ” 

“ Declare you were jealous,” finished Dorothy. 
“ We will hope she was in earnest with her gra- 


124 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


ciousness — perhaps she is always that way — an- 
tagonistic with strangers.” 

“ Never,” and Tavia went into a mud puddle 
in her attempt to speak very decidedly. “ There I 
I’m glad that was not my canvas shoe. I was 
tempted to wear them. Ouch! Wet through! 
But I was about to say that Viola is not mean to 
all strangers. Did you see the way she went for 
Nat?” 

“ Well, we must not make trouble by going out 
of our way to meet it,” preached Dorothy. 
“ Viola may not have a chance to bother us at 
Glenwood, even if she cared to try.” 

“ Chance! You can depend upon her to make 
all the chance she wants. But I have my defense 
all mapped out. I am certain she will try to dis- 
grace us with the patrol story.” 

“ What disgrace could she make out of that? ” 
asked Dorothy in surprise. 

“ Don’t know, haven’t the least idea, only I 
fancy she will fix something up. But I’ll give her 
‘ a run for her money,’ as the boys say,” and Tavia 
displayed something of the defense she had 
“mapped out” in a decidedly vindictive attitude. 

Packing of trunks and doing up of girls’ belong- 
ings made the time fly, so that when the morning 
of the actual departure did arrive both girls felt 


OFF FOR GLENWOOD 


125 


as if something important must have been over- 
looked, there was so much hurry and flurry. But 
the train puffed off at last, with Dorothy Dale and 
Octavia Travers passengers for the little place 
called Glenwood, situated away off in the New 
England mountains. 

Major Dale felt lonely indeed when his Little 
Captain had kissed the two boys — her soldiers — 
good-bye, and, when she pressed her warm cheek 
to his own anxious face, it did seem as if a great 
big slice of sunshine had suddenly darted under a 
heavy black cloud. But it was best she should go, 
he reflected, and they must get along without her. 

Tavia’s folks were conscious of similar senti- 
ments. The squire, her father, and her little 
brother Johnnie went to the station to see the girls 
off, and Johnnie felt so badly that he actually re- 
fused to go fishing with Joe Dale, an opportunity 
he would have ‘‘ jumped at ” under any other cir- 
cumstances. Roger Dale had rubbed his pretty 
eyes almost sightless trying not to cry and listening 
to Aunt Libby’s oft-told story that had never yet 
failed to heal a wound of the baby’s heart, but he 
surely did not want Doro to go, and he surely 
would cry every single night when she did not come 
to kiss him. 

“ I just do want her,” he blubbered on the 


126 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


newly-ironed gingham apron that Aunt Libby 
buried his sweet face in, “ and I don’t love Auntie 
Winnie for taking her away.” 

So the Dalton home was left behind. 

I wish we did not have to change so often,” 
said Dorothy to Tavia, when she had finally dried 
her eyes and looked around with the determination 
of being young-lady-like, and not crying for those 
left behind in dear old Dalton. 

“ Oh, that’s the most fun,” declared Tavia. 
“ All new people maybe, and different conductors, 
besides a chance to try if our feet are asleep — 
mine feel drowsy now,” and she jumped into the 
aisle just to straighten out and make people won- 
der if she had lost something. 

“We will meet the others at the junction — 
Viola’s folks, you know. And that reminds me, 
— I never had a chance to tell you why she was 
called Viola. Her grandfather was a great vio- 
linist and she was called after his — ” 

“Fiddle! Good!” interrupted Tavia, the ir- 
repressible. “ Then I’ll call her ‘ Fiddle.’ That’s 
lots better than the vegetables.” 

“ It’s a comfort to have all our things go by 
express,” Dorothy remarked when “ Next station 
Junction ! ” was called from the front door of 
the car. “ I feel as if I am constantly forgetting 


OFF FOR GLENWOOD 


127 


something, when I have nothing to carry, but it 
is a relief to find our racks empty.” 

“ My hat is up there,” Tavia remarked, taking 
down the straw sailor. “ And our box of candy 
— you don’t call that an empty rack, do you? 
Alice’s best mixed — all chocolate too.” 

“ I was quite sure you wouldn’t forget the 
candy,” answered Dorothy. “ And it was awfully 
good of Alice.” 

“ Junction ! Junct-shon I ” called the trainman. 

“ There’s our porter,” remarked Tavia, with 
conscious pride as the colored man, whom the 
major had given the girls in charge of, stepped 
up the aisle, secured the small satchels and, with- 
out so much as, “ by. your leave,” or, “ are you 
ready,” handed the two girls off the train. 


CHAPTER XII 


viola’s mother 

At the change of cars the Dalton girls were 
met by Viola and Mrs. Green. Viola and her 
mother soon arranged seats for four in the chair 
car, and Dorothy, with Tavia, joined them in 
such comfortable quarters as are provided for 
long distance passengers. Then the little party 
settled down for a long ride — and all the enjoy- 
ment that might be discovered therein. Viola 
appeared delighted to meet the Dalton girls — 
she inquired particularly about Dorothy’s cousin 
Nat, but this society “ stunt,” as Tavia termed 
it, was due more to the city habit of remembering 
friends’ friends, than a weakness on Viola’s part 
for good looking boys. 

But it was Viola’s mother who interested both 
Dorothy and Tavia. She was a small woman, 
'Hv of foreign extraction (Spanish, Dorothy 
nd with such a look of adoration for 
Dorothy and Tavia, observing the 
Move, it seemed like something: 

128 


VIOLA’S MOTHER 


129 


inhuman, divine perhaps, or was it a physical 
weakness ? 

They noticed that Mrs. Green used her smell- 
ing salts freely, she often pressed her hand to her 
head, and seemed much like a person too delicate 
to travel. 

“Are you all right, momsey?’’ Viola would 
ask continually. “ I do wish you had not risked 
coming.” 

“ But I could not allow you to travel all alone,” 
the mother would answer with a delightful for- 
eign accent. “ And you know, my daughter, that 
father was too busy.” 

“ But, momsey, do not sit up If you are tired,” 
cautioned Viola. “ Just lie back and try to be 
comfortable.” 

“ I am enjoying every word you speak,” de- 
clared the little woman, inhaling her salts. “ You 
and your charming friends.” 

Dorothy had never seen so wonderful a mother 
— to actually hang on her daughter’s frivolous 
nonsense. And the attention was a positive tonic 
to Tavia’s chatter. She said such amusing things 
and saw such ridiculous comparisons — the kind 
little children surprise their elders with. 

To Dorothy, who had never known a mother’s 
affection (she was such a tot when her own dear 


130 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

mother left her), this devotion appeared to be 
nothing short of marvelous. Tavia thought it 
unusual — Viola seemed worried when it became 
too extreme. Then she would urge her mother 
to rest and not excite herself over foolish school- 
girl talk. Even such an admonition from a mere 
daughter did not appear to bother the strange 
little woman, with the almost glaring black eyes. 
Tavia observed this peculiarity, then made a men- 
tal observation that whatever ailed Viola might 
have to do with a similar affliction on the mother’s 
part — perhaps a family weakness ! 

As they journeyed on Dorothy found it very 
pleasant to talk with Mrs. Green and so left Viola 
and Tavia pretty much to themselves. 

Numbers of Glenwood girls were picked up 
at various stations, and, as each was espied, the 
chair car party hailed them, Viola being acquainted 
with the last year’s girls. Before the last station 
— some twenty miles from the destination of the 
students — had been struck off the time-table, 
there were actually twelve “ Glenwoods,” aboard. 
Those from Dalton felt just a bit “ green ” Tavia 
admitted, never before haying mingled with a 
boarding school “ tribe,” but on the whole the 
scholars were very sociable and agreeable, and 
made all sorts of promises for future good times. 


VIOLA’S MOTHER 


131 

You see,” explained Rose-Mary Markin, a 
very dear girl from somewhere in Connecticut, 
“ we count all this side of Boston in the Knicker- 
bocker set, ‘ Knicks,’ we call them. The others 
are the Pilgrims ; and isn’t it dreadful to nickname 
them the ‘ Pills? ’ 

Tavia thought that “ the best ever,” and de- 
clared she would join the Knicks (spelled “ Nicks ” 
in the school paper) no matter what the initiation 
would cost her. 

‘‘ Viola is secretary of the Nicks,” volunteered 
Amy Brook, a girl who wore her hair parted 
exactly in the middle and looked classical. “ We 
have lots of sport; plays and meetings. You will 
join, surely, Dorothy, won’t you?” 

“ But I will not be secretary this year,” inter- 
rupted Viola, without allowing Dorothy to answer 
Amy. ‘‘ It’s too much trouble.” 

“ But you can’t resign until the first regular 
meeting in November,” said Amy, surprised that 
Viola should wish to give up the office. 

“ I intend to resign the very first thing,” as- 
serted Viola. “ The Nicks can get along with 
a pro-tem until the regular meeting.” 

Mrs. Green now fixed her strange gaze upon 
her daughter, and Dorothy, who was plainly more 
interested in the delicate little woman than in the 


132 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


schoolgirls’ chatter, noticed a shadow come into 
the pale face. Evidently Mrs. Green could stand 
no arguments, no confusion, and, when the girls 
continued to discuss the pros and cons of a sec- 
retary pro-tem, Dorothy suggested that they 
change the subject as it might be distressing to 
Mrs. Green. Quick as a flash Viola was all at- 
tention to her mother, inquiring about her head, 
offering to bring fresh ice water, and showing 
unusual anxiety, so it seemed to Dorothy’s keen 
observation, when the lady was not really ill. 

Then, at the first opportunity Viola called the 
girls down to the end compartment, and told them 
that her mother had only just recovered from a 
serious illness. 

“ She had a dreadful attack this time,” said 
Viola, “ and she should never have come on this 
journey.” 

“Then why did she?” asked Tavia, in her 
blunt way. 

“Well, she seemed so set upon it,” declared 
Viola, “ that the doctors thought it more danger- 
ous to cross her about it than to allow her to 
come. Our doctor is on the train, but mother 
does not know it. I do wish she could get 
strong ! ” 


VIOLA’S MOTHER 


133 


The tears that came to the girl’s eyes seemed 
very pitiable — every one of the party felt like 
crying with Viola. 

Dorothy attempted to put her arms about the 
sad girl, but Viola was on her feet instantly. 

“We must go back,” she said. 

“ Then we can arrange to sit in another place,” 
suggested Dorothy. “ Perhaps if she were quiet 
she might fall off asleep.” 

Viola left the compartment first. There were 
people in the aisle — in front of her mother. 
What had happened? 

“Oh!” screamed the girl. “Mother! Let 
me go to her ! ” and she hurried through the car, 
pushing aside the trainmen who had been sum- 
moned. “Mother! Mother!” called the fright- 
ened Viola, for her mother was so pale and so 
still! 

“ Oh, she is dead! ” whispered Tavia, who had 
succeeded in reaching the chair. 

“ Open the windows ! ” commanded Viola. 
“ Call Dr. Reed, quick! He is in the next car! ” 

It seemed an eternity — but in reality was only 
a few minutes — before the doctor reached the 
spot. Dorothy could see that Mrs. Green had 
not fainted — her eyes were moving. But poor 


134 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

Viola! How could they ever have thought ill 
of her when this was her sorrow: this her sad 
burden I 

Dorothy Dale resolved in her heart, at that 
moment, that never a care nor a sorrow should 
come to Viola Green if she could protect her from 
it. She would be her champion at school, she 
would try to share this secret sorrow with her; 
she would do anything in her power to make life 
brighter for a girl who had this awful grief to 
bear. 

“ It’s her mind,” Dorothy had heard someone 
whisper. Then the doctor had the porters carry 
the sick woman to a private compartment, and 
with her Viola remained, until the train reached 
Hanover. There Dr. Reed left the train and 
with him went Mrs. Green in care of an attendant. 
When they were gone Viola returned to her com- 
panions weeping and almost sick herself. 

“ The doctor would not let me go back home,” 
she sighed, “ and as soon as mother was conscious 
she insisted on me going on to school. Dr. Reed 
can always manage her so well, and if I were with 
him perhaps mother would fret more. But I did 
think she would get over those awful spells — ” 
and the girl burst into fresh tears. 

“ Viola, dear,” said Dorothy soothingly. “ Try 


VIOLA’S MOTHER 


135 


to be brave. Perhaps the trip may benefit her in 
the end.” 

“ Oh, don’t try to be kind to me,” wailed the 
unhappy girl. “ I can’t stand it! I hate every- 
body and everything in this world only my darling 
little sweet mother! And I cannot have her! 
She can never go with me to her own country now, 
and we had planned it all! Oh, mother darling! 
Why did you inherit that awful sickness! Why 
can’t we cure you ! ” and so the sad daughter 
wailed and wept, while her companions looked on 
helplessly. 

“ But you will let me be your friend,” pleaded 
Dorothy. “ Try to think it will all come right 
some day — every sorrow must unfold some bless- 
ing — 

“ My friend ! ” and Viola looked with that same 
sharp glance that her mother had shown — that 
queer glare at Dorothy. “ Dorothy Dale, you 
do not know what you are talking about ! ” 

And every girl present had reason to remember 
this strange remark when days at Glenwood school 
proved their meaning. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE CATEGORY 

“Isn’t it great!” exclaimed Tavla, shaking 
out her blue dress, and tying a worn handkerchief 
over its particular closet hook so that no hump 
would appear in the soft blue texture. “ I never 
would believe boarding school was such fun. 
Here comes Rose-Mary with more Nicks to in- 
troduce. I hear her laughing — hasn’t she got 
the jolliest little giggle — like our brook when it 
bubbles over.” 

“ I wish, Tavia, you would confine your ward- 
robe to your own half of the closet,” Dorothy 
remonstrated, as she took down several articles 
that had “ crossed the line.” 

“ Oh, I will, dear, only I was just listening to 
what those girls were saying. I thought I heard 
Viola’s voice. Isn’t it strange she does not call 
on us. I told her our room was Number Nine- 
teen.” 

“ I suppose she’s busy, every one appears to 
be except Rose-Mary. She doesn’t seem to mind 
whether her trunk is unpacked first day 
136 


or on 


THE CATEGORY 


137 

Christmas,” said Dorothy, working diligently at 
her own baggage. 

“ I would just love to go the rounds with her,” 
declared Tavia, “ if you did not insist upon 
going right to work. I would rather have fun 
now and unpack later.” 

“ But there is no later. We must go to bed 
at eight thirty, my dear, and we have no time to 
spare. School will begin to-morrow.” 

“ All the more reason why we should have the 
fun now,” persisted Tavia, who was nevertheless 
getting her clothes on the hooks in short order. 
“ There ! I’m all hung up,” she declared, bang- 
ing the closet door furiously, in spite of Dorothy’s 
hat box trying to stop it. 

“ But your hats,” Dorothy reminded her. 
“ They have got to go on that shelf, and there 
isn’t an inch of room left.” 

“ Then I’ll just stick the box under the bed,” 
calmly remarked the new girl, making a kick at 
the unlucky box and following it up to the “ goal.” 

‘‘ Against the rules,” announced Dorothy, point- 
ing to a typewritten notice on the door. “ Read ! ” 

“ Haven’t time. You read them and tell me 
about them. I’ll take the box out if it says so, 
but if we have to keep things in such angelic order 
why in the world don’t they give us room? ” 


138 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

“Room? Indeed this is a large room, given 
us especially, and it is quite a favor to be allowed 
to room together — only real sisters ever get a 
double.” 

“Heaven help the singles!” sighed Tavia in 
mock devotion. “ But come on, Doro, — we are 
missing all the fun. I did think I heard the mob 
at our door.” 

Without further leave or license Tavia dragged 
Dorothy from her work and closed the door of 
Number Nineteen behind her. In the hall they 
found Rose-Mary, whom the girls called “ Co- 
logne,” Amy Brook, Nita Brant, and Lena Berg. 
All were trying to talk at once, each had “ the 
very most delicious vacation ” to tell about, and to 
Dorothy it appeared the first requisite for board- 
ing school ways was the coining of absurd and 
meaningless phrases. Tavia fell right into line, 
and could discount anyone of the crowd. “ Splen- 
difiorous, glorioutious and scrambunctious,” were 
plainly hard to beat, and no one seemed willing 
to try. Cologne had a way of saying things in 
a jerky little jump that suggested bumping noses, 
Amy Brook fairly strangled with dashes and other 
unexpected shorts stops, while Nita Brant “ wal- 
lowed ” in such exclamations as : 


THE CATEGORY 


139 


“Fine and dandy! Perfectly sugary! Too 
killingly, dear, for anything ! ” 

It was Cologne who declared Nita “ wallowed ” 
in slang, because the Nicks had decided that no 
ready-made slang should be used at meetings, and 
Nita persisted in ignoring the rule. Each new term 
brought the season’s current phrases back in the 
custody of the sandy-haired Nita and now, on 
the first night, her companions took precious good 
care to remind her of the transgression. 

Altogether Dorothy found it difficult to keep 
track of anything like conversation, and was forced 
to say “ yes ” and “ no ” on suspicion. Tavia 
had better luck, Edna Black (christened Ebony 
Ned) took her in charge at once, and the two 
(Ned had already established her reputation as 
a black sheep), dashed off down the corridor, 
bursting in on unsuspecting “ Babes ” (new- 
comers), and managing, somehow or other, to 
upset half-emptied trunk trays, and do damage 
generally. 

“ Hello ! Hello ! ” came a shout from the first 
turn or senior row. “ Come, somebody, and fan 
me!” 

“ That’s ‘ Dick,’ ” Ned told Tavia. “ Molly 
Richards, but we call her Dick. By the way, 


140 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


what shall we call you ? What is your full name ? 
The very whole of it?” 

“ Octavia Travers 1 Birthday is within the 
octave of Christmas,” declared the Dalton girl 
impressively. 

“ Oct or Ouch ! That Sounds too much like 
Auch du lieber Augustine, or like a cut finger,” 
studied Edna. “ Better take yours from Christ- 
mas — Chrissy sounds cute.” 

“ Yes, especially since I have lately had my 
hair cut Christy — after our friend Columbus,” 
agreed Tavia, tossing back her new set of tangles. 
“ I was in a railroad accident, you know, and 
lost my long hair. I had the time of my life 
getting it cut off properly, in a real barber shop. 
Dorothy’s cousins, two of the nicest boys, were 
with us — Dorothy went too. It was such fun.” 

“ All right, it shall be Chrissy then,” decided 
Edna. “ It’s funny we always turn a girl’s name 
into a boy’s name when we can. Let’s go and 
see Dick,” and at this she dragged Tavia out of 
the corner of the hall where they had taken refuge 
from a girl who was threatening them for upset- 
ting all her ribbons and laces. 

“ Oh, there you are, Ned Ebony,” greeted 
Molly as the two bolted into her room. “ Where’s 
everybody. I haven’t seen Fiddle yet.” 


THE CATEGORY 


141 

“Viola Green?” asked Tavia. “Funny I 
should have thought of that name for her.” 

“You knew she plays the fiddle adorably.” 

“ No, but I knew she had been named after 
her grandfather’s violin. What a queer notion.” 

“ Queer girl, too,” remarked Molly, “ but a 
power in her way. Did she come up yet? ” 

“ On our train,” said Tavia, too prudent, for 
once in her life, to tell the whole story. 

“ She is going to cut the Nicks,” announced 
Edna. “ She told me so first thing. Then she 
slammed her door and no one has caught a glimpse 
of her since.” 

Tavia was fairly bursting with news at this 
point, but she had promised Dorothy not to in- 
terefere with Viola in any way and she wisely 
decided not to start in on such dangerous territory 
as Viola’s visit to Dalton. So the matter was 
dropped, and the girls went forth for more fun. 

Dorothy had met Miss Higley, Mrs. Pang- 
born’s assistant. She proved to be a little woman 
with glasses, the stems going all the way back 
of her ears. She seemed snappy, Dorothy 
thought, and gave all sorts of orders to the girls 
while pretending to become acquainted with Dor- 
otliy. 

“ The crankiest crank,” declared one girl, when 


142 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


the little woman had gone fuither down the hall 
with her objections. “ But, really, we need a 
chief of police. Don’t you think so?” 

“Isn’t Mrs. Pangborn chief?” asked Doro- 
thy. 

“ Oh, she’s president of the board of commis- 
sioners,” replied Rose-Mary. “ Miss Honorah 
Higley is the chief of all departments.” 

“And Miss Crane?” Inquired Dorothy. “I 
have met her.” 

“ Oh, she’s all right,” declared the informer. 
“ Camille Crane is a dear — If the girls do call 
her Feathers.” 

“ I thought all that nick-name business was done 
in colleges,” remarked Dorothy. “ Every one 
here seems to have two names.” 

“ Couldn’t possibly get along without them,” 
declared Cologne. “ I’ve been Cologne since my 
first day — what have they given you ? ” 

“ I haven’t heard yet,” said Dorothy, smiling. 
“ But I do hope they won’t ‘ Dot ’ me. I hate 
dots.” 

“ Then make It Dashes or Specks, but you must 
not be Specks. We have one already.” 

“ Glad of It,” returned Dorothy. “ I don’t 
like Specks either.” 

“ I guess we v/Ill make It ‘ D. D.’ That’s 


THE CATEGORY 


143 


good, and means a whole lot of things. There,” 
declared Cologne. “ IVe had the honor of being 
your sponsor. Now you must always stick by 
me. D. D. you are to be hereafter.” 

“ That will tickle Tavla,” declared Dorothy. 
“ She always said I was a born parson.” 

“ Better yet,” exclaimed Cologne. “ Be Par- 
son. Now weVe got It. The Little Parson,” 
and away she flew to Impart her Intelligence to a 
waiting world of foolish schoolgirls. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE INITIATION 

The first days at Glenwood revolved like a 
magic kaleidoscope — all bits of brilliant things, 
nothing tangible, and nothing seemingly im- 
portant. Dorothy had made her usual good 
friends — Tavia her usual jolly chums. But 
Viola Green remained a mystery. 

She certainly had avoided speaking to Dorothy, 
and had not even taken the trouble to avoid 
Tavia — she “cut her dead.” Edna tried to 
persuade Tavia that “ Fiddle” was a privileged 
character, and that the seeming slights were not 
fully intended; but Tavia knew better. 

“ She may be as odd as she likes,” insisted the 
matter of fact girl from Dalton, “ but she must not 
expect me to smile at her ugliness — it is nothing 
else — pure ugliness.” 

Dorothy had sought out Viola, but it was now 
plain that the girl purposely avoided her. 

“ Perhaps she is worrying about her mother, 
144 


THE INITIATION 


145 


poor dear,” thought the sympathetic Dorothy. 
“ I must insist on cheering her up. A nice walk 
through these lovely grounds ought to brighten her. 
And the leaves on these hills are perfectly glorious. 
I must ask her to go with me on my morning 
walk, ril go to her room to-night after tea — 
during recreation. I have not seen her out a 
single morning yet.” 

So Dorothy mused, and so she acted according 
to the logical result of that musing. At recreation 
time that evening Dorothy tapped gently on the 
door of Number Twelve. 

The door was slightly ajar, and Dorothy could 
hear the sounds of papers being hastily gathered 
up. Then Viola came to the entrance. 

“May I come in?” asked Dorothy, surprised 
that Viola should have made the question neces- 
sary. 

“ Oh, I am so busy — but of course — Did you 
want to see me? ” and there was no invitation in 
the voice or manner. 

“ Just for a moment,” faltered Dorothy, de- 
termined not to be turned away without a hearing. 

Viola reluctantly opened the door. Then she 
stepped aside without offering a chair. 

“ I have been worried about you,” began Dor- 


146 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


othy, rather miserably. “ Are you ill, Viola ? ’’ 
“111? Why not at all. Can’t a girl attend 
to her studies without exciting criticism? ” 

Dorothy’s face burned. “ Oh, of course. But 
I did not see you out at all — ” 

“ Next time I leave my room I’ll send the 
Nicks word,” snapped Viola. “ Then they may 
appoint a committee to see me out ! ” 

Dorothy was stung by this. She had expected 
that Viola would resent the interference — try to 
keep to her chosen solitude — but the rudeness was 
a surprise. 

“ But you are getting pale, Viola,” she ven- 
tured. “ Couldn’t you possibly take your exer- 
cise with me to-morrow? I would so like to have 
you. The walk over the mountains is perfectly 
splendid now.” 

“ Thank you,” and Viola’s black eyes again 
looked out of their depths with that strange for- 
eign keenness. “ But I prefer to walk alone.” 

Dorothy was certain a tear glistened in Viola’s 
eye. 

“ Alone ! ” repeated the visitor. “ Viola, dear, 
if you would only let me be your friend — ” 

“ Dorothy Dale ! ” and the girl’s eyes flashed 
in anger. “ I will have none of your preaching. 
You came here to pry into my affairs just as you 


THE INITIATION 


147 


did on the train, when you made me tell all about 
my dear, darling mother’s illness, before those 
giggling girls. Yes, you need not play innocent. 
I know the kind of girl you are. ‘ Sugar coated ! ’ 
But you may take your sympathy where strangers 
will be fooled by it. Try it on some of the 
Babes. But you must never again attempt to 
meddle in my affairs. If you do I’ll tell Miss 
Higley. So there I Are you satisfied now?” 

Dorothy was stunned. Was this flaming, flash- 
ing girl the same that had smiled upon her when 
the sick mother was present? What was that 
strange unnatural gleam in the black eyes ? Anger 
or jealousy? 

“I am sorry,” faltered Dorothy; then she 
turned and left the room. 

One hour later Tavia found Dorothy buried 
in her pillows. Tears would still come to her 
eyes, although she had struggled bravely to sup- 
press them. 

‘‘ Doro ! ” exclaimed her friend in surprise. 

Are you homesick? ” 

“ No,” sobbed the miserable girl. “ It isn’t 
exactly homesick — .” Then the thought came to 
her that she should not implicate Viola, she had 
promised to save her from further suffering. 
Surely she had enough with the sick mother. 


148 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


“ Then what is it? ” demanded Tavia. 

“ Oh, I don’t know, Tavia,” and she tried 
again to check her tears, “ but I just had to cry.” 

“ Nervous,” concluded the Dalton girl. “ Well, 
we must cure that. You know we are to be 
initiated this evening. Aren’t you scared?” 

“ Oh, yes,” and Dorothy sat upright. “ I 
quite forgot. Do we join the Nicks?” 

“ Unless you prefer the Pills. They are the 
stiffest set — not a bit like our crowd. And the 
way they talk! A cross between a brogue and 
Tom Burbank. ‘ I came hawf way uptown be- 
fore I could signal a car-r ’,” rolled out Tavia, 
mocking the long A’s, and rolled R’s of the New 
England girl. “ How’s that for English? I 
call it brogue.” 

“ It does sound queer, but they tell me it is the 
correct pronunciation,” Dorothy managed to say, 
while working diligently with her handkerchief 
on her eyes and cheeks. 

“ Then, as in all things else,” declared Tavia, 
“I am thankful not to be orthodox — I should 
get tonsilitis if I ever tried anything like that.” 

“Where is the meeting to be held?” asked 
Dorothy. 

“Don’t know — we must not know anything. 
Ned says it will be easy. Dick is the guide, and 


THE INITIATION 


149 


I know Cologne has something to do with it. I 
do hope you won’t be sad-eyed, Doro.” 

“ You can depend upon me to do Dalton jus- 
tice,” declared the girl on the bed. “ I’m anxious 
to see what they will do to us. No hazing, I 
hope.” 

“In this Sunday school? Mercy no I No 
such luck. They will probably make us recite 
psalms,” asserted the irreverent Tavia. 

“ But being Parson that would be appropriate 
for me,” Dorothy declared. 

“ And for a Chris ! That would be all right 
also,” added Tavia. “ Well, I know one or two.” 

“ There is someone coming to call us,” and 
Dorothy jumped to her feet. “ I must bathe 
my stupid eyes.” 

A half hour later the meeting was called. It 
was held in a little recreation room on the third 
floor. To this spot the candidates were led blind- 
folded. Within the room the shuffling of feet 
could be heard, then a weird voice said in a 
muffled tone: 

“ Hear ye I Honored Nicks! Let their scales 
fall I ” 

At the word the bandages were dropped from 
the eyes of Dorothy and Tavia. 

A glimpse around the half-lighted room showed 


150 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


a company of masked faces and shrouded forms 
— sheets and white paper arrangements. On 
the window seat sat the Most High Nick — the 
promoter. At her feet was crouched the Chief 
Ranger. 

“ Number one ! ” called the Ranger, and Doro- 
thy was pressed forward. 

“ Chase that thimble across the room with your 
nose,” demanded the Ranger, placing a silver 
thimble at Dorothy’s feet. 

Of course Dorothy laughed — all candidates 
do — at first. 

“ Wipe your smile off,” ordered the Promoter, 
and at this Dorothy was obliged to “ wipe the 
smile ” on the rather uncertain rug, by brushing 
her mouth into the very depths of the carpet. 

“ Proceed I ” commanded the Ranger, and Dor- 
othy began the thimble chase. 

It is all very well for the “ uppers ” to laugh 
at the Babes, but it was no easy matter to get a 
thimble across a room by nose effort. Yet Dor- 
othy was “ game,” her nominating committee de- 
clared in the course of time, and, between many 
pauses, chief of which was caused by the irrepres- 
sible smiles that had to be wiped off on all parts 
of the floor for every offense, Dorothy did get 
the thimble over to the corner. 


THE INITIATION 


151 

“ Number two,” called the Ranger, and Tavia 
took the floor. 

“ The clock,” indicated the Promoter, where- 
upon Tavia was confined in a small closet and 
made to do the “ Cuckoo stunt.” Each hour 
called was responded to by the corresponding 
“ cuckoos,” and the effect was ludicrous indeed. 
Every break in the call meant another trial, but 
finally Tavia got through the ordeal. 

Next Dorothy was called upon to make a speech 
— the subject assigned being “ The Glory of the 
Nicks.” An impromptu speech might be difficult 
to make under such circumstances had the subject 
been a word of four letters, like Snow, Love or 
even Hate, but to extemporize on the society which 
was giving her the third degree — Dorothy al- 
most “ flunked,” it must be admitted. 

The final test was that of singing a lesson in 
mathematics to the tune of America, and the try 
that Tavia had at that broke every paper mask in 
the room — no, not every one, for over in the 
corner was a mask that never stirred, one that left 
the room before the candidates had been welcomed 
into the society of honorable Nicks. That mask 
went into room twelve. 


CHAPTER XV 


LOST ON MOUNT GABRIEL 

A FULL month of school life had passed at 
Glenwood. The beautiful autumn had come to 
tint the leafy New England hills, when Mrs. 
Pangborn announced that her classes might go 
on a little picnic to the top of Mount Gabriel. 
The day chosen proved to be of the ideal Indian 
summer variety, and when the crowd of happy 
students skipped away through the woods that led 
to the mount, there seemed nothing to be wished 
for. Miss Crane had been sent in charge, and 
as Edna said, that meant just one more girl to 
make sport. 

As usual Viola did not join the merry-makers. 
She had the continuous excuse of her mother’s ill- 
ness, which had really been a matter of great 
worry to her, as Mrs. Pangborn, if no other at the 
school, knew to be true. 

“ It’s as warm as August,” declared Nita Brant, 
scaling a darling little baby maple and robbing it 
of it’s most cherished pink leaves. 

152 


LOST ON MOUNT GABRIEL 


153 


“ Oh, Nita,” sighed Tavia, “couldn’t you take 
some other tree? That poor little thing never 
wore a pink dress before in all its young life!” 

“ Too young to wear pink,” declared the gay 
Nita, affecting the brilliant leaves herself. “ I 
just love baby leaves,” and she planted the wreath 
on her fair brow. 

This started the wreath brigade, which soon 
terminated in every one of the picnickers being 
adorned with a crown of autumn foliage. 

At the foot of the mountain the girls made an 
effort to procure mountain sticks, but this was not 
an easy matter, and much time was taken up in 
the search for appropriate staffs. Those strong 
enough were invariably too hard to break, and 
those that could be procured were always too 
“ splintery.” But the matter was finally disposed 
of, and the procession started up the mountain. 

It was growing late in the afternoon, the pil- 
grimage not having been taken up until after the 
morning session, and when the top of the moun- 
tain was finally reached. Miss Crane told her 
charges that they might scurry about and get such 
specimen of leaves or stones as they wished to 
bring back, as they would only remain there a 
short time. 

The air was very heavy by this time, and the 


154 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


distant roll of thunder could be heard, but the gay 
girls never dreamed of a storm on that late Octo- 
ber afternoon as they ran wildly about gathering 
bits of every procurable thing from moss to crystal 
rocks. Tavia wanted Jacks-in-the-pulpit, and 
sought diligently for them, getting away from all 
but Dorothy in her anxiety to find her home flower. 
She dearly loved Jacks — they grew just against 
the Dale wall in dear old Dalton, and she wanted 
to send one flower home to little Johnnie. It 
would be crushed in a letter of course, but she 
would put some dainty little ferns beside it and 
they would keep the lazy look. Then she could 
tell Johnnie all about the mountain top — send 
him some bright red maple leaves, and some yel- 
low ones. 

“ Oh, Dorothy 1 ” she exclaimed. “ I see some 
almost-purple leaves,” and down the side of a 
ledge she slipped. “Come on! The footing is 
perfectly safe.” 

Dorothy saw that the place was apparently safe, 
and she made her way eagerly after Tavia. Dor- 
othy, too, wanted to send specimens home from 
Mount Gabriel, so she, too, must try to get the 
prettiest ones that grew there. 

The roll of thunder was now heard by the pair 
but it was not heeded. Bit by bit they made their 


LOST ON MOUNT GABRIEL 


155 


way along the newly-discovered slope ; step by step 
they went farther away from their companions. 

Suddenly a flash of lightning shot down a tree I 
The next minute there was a downpour of rain, 
like the dashing of a cloud burst. 

“ Oh ! ” screamed Dorothy. “ What shall we 
do?” 

“Get under the cliff!” ordered Tavia. 
“ Quick! Before the next flash! ” 

Grasping wildly at stumps and brush, as they 
made their way down the now gloomy slope, the 
two frightened girls managed to get under some 
protection — where trees, overhanging the rocks, 
formed a sort of roof to a very narrow strip of 
ground. 

“Oh! What shall we do?” cried Dorothy 
again. “We can never make our way back to the 
others.” 

“ But we must,” declared Tavia. “ I’m sure 
we cannot stay here long. Isn’t it a dreadful 
storm? ” 

Flash upon flash, and roar upon roar tumbled 
over the mountain with that strange rumble pecul- 
iar to hills and hollows. Then the rain — 

It seemed as if the storm came to the mountain 
first and lost half the drops before getting farther 
down. It did pour with a vengeance. Several 


156 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


times Tavia ventured to poke her head out to make 
weather observations, but each time she was driven 
unceremoniously back into shelter. 

“ It must be late ! ” sighed Dorothy. 

“ That it must ! ” agreed her companion, “ and 
we have got to get out of here soon. Rain or 
no rain, we can’t stay here all night. The thun- 
der and lightning is not so bad now. Come on! 
Let’s go!” 

Timidly the two girls crept out. But the rain 
had washed their path away and they could barely 
take a step where so short a time before they 
seemed to walk in safety. 

“Don’t give up!” Tavia urged Dorothy. 
“ We must get to the top.” 

But the stones would slide away and the young 
trees, loosed by the heavy rain, would pull up 
at the roots. 

“ Try this way,” suggested Tavia, taking 
another line from that which the girls knew ran 
to the mountain top. 

This proved to be safer in footing at least. 
The rocks did not fall with such force, and the 
trees were stronger to hold on to. 

But where was that path taking them? Both 
girls shouted continually, hoping to make the 


LOST ON MOUNT GABRIEL 157 

others hear, but no welcome answer came back to 
them. 

Then they realized the truth. They were lost! 

Night was coming, and such a night! 

On a mountain top, in a thunder storm, with 
darkness falling! 

The girls never knew just what they did in 
that awful hour, but it seemed afterwards that a 
whole lifetime had been lost with them in that 
storm. So far from every one on earth! Not 
even a bird to break that dreadful black solitude ! 

And the others? 

The storm, violent as it was, did not deter them 
from searching for Dorothy and Tavia. Miss 
Crane had shouted her throat powerless, and the 
others had not been less active. But by the 
strange circumstances that always lead the lost 
from their seekers, both parties had followed 
different directions, and at last, as night came on, 
Miss Crane was obliged to lead her weeping 
charges down Mount Gabriel and leave the two 
lost ones behind. 


CHAPTER XVI 


WHAT VIOLA DID 

“When we get to the top we will surely be 
able to see our way down,” declared Tavia. 
“ So let us keep right on, even though this is not 
the path we came up.” 

“ But the others will not find us this way,” 
sighed Dorothy, “ and isn’t it getting dark ! ” 

“ Never mind. There must be some way of 
getting out of the woods. No mountains for mine. 
Good flat terra jirma is good enough for Chrissy.” 

Dorothy tried to be cheerful — there were no 
bears surely on these peaks, and perhaps no 
tramps — what would they be doing up there ? 

“Now!” cried Tavia, “I see a way down! 
Keep right close to me and you will be all right ! 
Yes, and I see a light! There’s a hut at this end 
of the mountain.” 

To say that the lost Glenwood girls slid down 
the steep hill would hardly express the kind of 
speed that they indulged in — they went over the 
ground like human kangaroos, and made such 
158 


WHAT VIOLA DID 


159 


good time that the light, seen by Tavia, actually 
stood before them now, in a little house against 
the hill. 

Two ferocious dogs greeted their coming — 
but Tavia managed to coax them into submission, 
and presently a woman peered out of a dingy win- 
dow and demanded to know what was wanted. 
She seemed a coarse creature and the place was 
such a hovel that the girls were sorry they had 
come. 

“ Don’t answer her,” cautioned Dorothy quickly.. 
“ Let’s make our way to the road.” 

Tavia saw that this would be safest, although 
she was not sure the woman would allow them 
to pass unquestioned past her stone fence. But 
with a dash they did reach the highway and had 
made tracks along through the muddy narrow 
wagon road before the woman, who was now call- 
ing after them, could do anything more disagree- 
able. The dogs followed them up for a few paces, 
and then turned back while the woman continued to 
shout in tones that struck terror into the hearts of 
the miserable girls. 

“ We may be running away from GlenwoodI ” 
ventured Tavia, spattering along, ‘‘ but this road 
surely goes to some place — if we can only get 
there.” 


i6o DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


“ Oh, Tm so out of breath,” panted Dorothy. 

We can walk now. The woman has ceased 
shouting.” 

“Wasn’t it dreadful!” exclaimed Tavia. “I 
was just scared stiff 1 ” 

“ We do get into such awful predicaments,” 
mused Dorothy. “ But I suppose the others are 
-almost as frightened as we are now, — I was dread- 
fully afraid when the woman shouted to us.” 

“Wasn’t she a scarecrow? Just like an old 
witch In a story book. Listen 1 I thought I 
heard the girls I ” 

“ Hark! ” echoed Dorothy. “ I am sure that 
ivas Edna’s yoddle. Answer It! ” 

At the top of her voice Tavia shouted the 
familiar call. Then she listened again. 

“ Yes,” ‘declared Dorothy, “ that’s surely Ned. 
Oh, do let’s run ! They might turn off on another 
road! This place seems- to be all turns.” 

When the welcome sounds of that call were 
heard by both parties little time was lost in reach- 
ing the lost ones. What had seemed to be night- 
fall was really only the blackness of the storm, and 
now, on the turnpike, a golden light shot through 
the trees, and wrapt Its glory about the happy 
girls, who tried all at once to embrace the two 
who had gone through such a reign of terror. 


WHAT VIOLA DID 


i6r 


“ Hurry ! Hurry ! ” called Miss Crane, skip- 
ping along like a schoolgirl herself. 

To tell the story of their adventures, the Dalton 
girls marched in the center of the middle row — 
everyone wanted to hear, and everyone wanted 
to be just as near as possible to Tavia and Doro- 
thy. 

Taking refuge under the cliff seemed exciting 
enough, but when Dorothy told how they had lost 
the trail to the mountain top, and how all the foot- 
ing slipped down as they tried to make the ascent, 
the girls were spell-bound. Then to hear Tavia 
describe, in her own inimitable way, the call of 

the witch ” — made some shout, and the entire 
party ran along as if the same “ witch ’’ was at 
their heels. 

When the report was made to Mrs. Pangborn, 
that dignified lady looked very seriously at Doro- 
thy and Tavia. Miss Crane had explained the 
entire affair, making it clear that the girls became 
separated from the others by the merest accident, 
and that the storm did the rest. 

“ But you must remember, my dears,” said 
Mrs. Pangborn kindly, “ that, as boarding school 
girls, you should always keep near to the teacher 
in charge even when taking walks across the coun- 
try. It is not at all safe to wander about as you: 


1 62 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


ivould at home. Nor can a girl depend upon her 
own judgment in asking strangers to direct her. 
-Sometimes thoughtless boys delight in sending the 
girls out of their way. I am glad the affair has 
ended without further trouble. You must have 
suffered when you found you really could not 
reach your companions. Let it be a lesson to all 
■of you.” 

“ Oh, if Miss Higley had been in charge,” 
whispered Edna, when the girls rehearsed their 
interview with Mrs. Pangborn. “ You would 
not have gotten off so easily. She would have 
said you ran away from us.” 

So the days at Glenwood gently lapped over 
the quiet nights, until week after week marked 
events of more or less importance in the lives of 
those who had given themselves to what learning 
may be obtained from books; what influence may 
he gained from close companionship with those 
who might serve as models; and what fun might 
he smuggled in between the lines, always against 
the rules, hut never in actual defiance of a single 
principle of the old New England institution. 

“ Just the hy-laws,” the girls would declare. 
“ We can always suspend them, as long as we do 
aiot touch the constitution.” 

This meant, of course, that innocent, harmless 


WHAT VIOLA DID 


163 


fun was always permissible when no one suffered 
by the pranks, and no damage was done to prop- 
erty or character. 

Rose-Mary Markin had become Dorothy’s in- 
timate friend. She was what is termed an all- 
round girl, both cultured and broad minded, a 
rare combination of character to find in a girl still 
in a preparatory school. She was as quick as a 
flash to detect deceit and yet gentle as one of the 
Babes in settling all matters where there was a ques- 
tion of actual intention. The benefit of the doubt 
was her maxim, and, as president of the Glenwood 
Club, the membership of which included girls from 
all the ranks, there was plenty of opportunity for 
Rose-Mary to exercise her benificence. 

Viola Green had, as promised, resigned from 
office in the Nicks, and what was more she had 
organized* a society in direct opposition to its 
principles. All the girls who had not done well 
in the old club readily fell in with the promises 
of the new order, and soon Viola had a distinct 
following — the girls with grievances against 
Rose-Mary, imagined or otherwise. Molly Rich- 
ards kept her “ eye pealed for bombs,” she told 
Dorothy, and declared the “ rebs ” would be heard 
from sooner or later in the midst of smokeless 
powder. 


i 64 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ It’s a conspiracy against someone,” announced 
Molly to Rose-Mary one evening. “ I heard 
them hatching the plot and — well I wouldn’t 
like to be unfair, but that Viola does hate Dor- 
othy.” 

“ She can never hurt Dorothy Dale,” answered 
the upright president of the Glenwood Club. 
“ She is beyond all that sort of thing.” 

But little did she know how Viola Green could 
hurt Dorothy Dale. Less did she think how 
serious could be the “ hurt ” inflicted. 

The mid-year examinations had passed off, and 
the Dalton girls held their own through the 
auspicious event. Dorothy showed a splendid 
fundamental education; that which fits a girl for 
clear study in subsequent undertakings, and that 
which is so often the result of the good solid train- 
ing given in country schools where methods are 
not continually changing. Tavia surprised her- 
self with getting through better than she had 
hoped, and credited her good luck to some plain 
facts picked up in the dear old Dalton school- 
room. 

But a letter from home disturbed Tavia’s pleas- 
ant Glenwood life — her father wrote of the ill- 
ness of Mrs. Travers and said it was necessary 
that their daughter should come home. For ^ 


WHAT VIOLA DID 


165 


few weeks only, the missive read, just while the 
mother had time to rest up and recover her 
strength — the illness was nothing of a serious 
nature. 

It did not seem possible that Tavia was packed 
and gone and that Dorothy was left in the school. 
A sense of this loneliness almost overpowered 
Dorothy when she realized that her sister-friend 
was gone — and the little bed across her room 
all smooth and unruffled by the careless, jolly girl 
who tried to make life a joke and did her d^est 
to make others share the same opinion. 

It was Rose-Mary who came to cheer Dorothy 
in the loss of Tavia. She sat with her evenings 
until the very last minute, and more than once 
was caught in the dark halls, the lights having 
been turned out before the girl could reach her 
own quarters. 

Rose-Mary and Dorothy had similar fancies. 
Both naturally refined, they found many things 
to interest them — things that most of the girls 
would not have bothered their pretty heads about. 
So their friendship grew stronger and their hearts 
became attuned, each to the other’s rhythm, until 
Dorothy and Rose-Mary were the closest kind of 
friends. 

Mrs. Pangborn had decided upon a play for 


i66 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

mid-year. It would be a sort of trial for the big 
event which always marked the term’s close at 
Glenwood and the characters would embrace stu- 
dents from all departments. The play was called 
Lalia, and was the story of a pilgrim on her way, 
intercepted by a Queen of Virtue and again sought 
out by the Queen of Pleasure. The pilgrim is 
lost in the woods of doubt, and finally brought to 
the haven of happiness by the Virtuous Queen Ce- 
lesta. This Pilgrim’s Progress required many 
characters for the queen’s retinues, besides the stars, 
of course, and the lesser parts. 

Dorothy was chosen for Lalia — the best char- 
acter. 

The part had been assigned by vote, and Dor- 
othy’s splendid golden hair, coupled with that ‘‘ an- 
gelic face,” according to her admirers, won the 
part for her. Rose-Mary Markin was made Ce- 
lesta, the Queen of Virtue: and Viola Green, be- 
cause of her dark complexion, being opposite that 
of Celesta, was elected to be Frivolita, the Queen 
of Pleasure. 

Each queen was allowed to select her own ret- 
inue — a delicious task, said the ones most inter- 
ested. 

Mrs. Pangborn made a neat little speech at the 
Glenwood meeting where these details were de- 


WHAT VIOLA DID 


167 

cided upon, and in it referred to the lesson of the 
story, incidentally hinting that some of the pupils 
had lately taken it upon themselves to do things 
not in strict accord with the history of her school 
— the forming of a society, for instance, without 
the consent or knowledge of any of the faculty. 
This secret doing, she said, could not continue. 
Either the girls should come to her and make 
known the object of their club, or this club could 
no longer hold meetings. 

This came like a thunderbolt from a clear sky — 
and by some Dorothy was promptly accused of tale 
bearing. 

But in spite of it all another secret meeting was 
held and at it the “ Rebs,” as they actually called 
themselves, declared open rebellion. They would 
not submit to such tyranny, and, further, they 
would not take part in any play in which Dorothy 
Dale held an important part. 

It was then the bomb was thrown by Viola, the 
bomb that she carried all the way from Dalton, and 
had kept waiting for a chance to set it off — until 
now — the hour of seeming triumph for Dorothy. 

“ ril tell you the positive truth, girls,” Viola be- 
gan, first being sure that no one but those in the 
“ club ” were within reach of her voice, “ I saw, 
with my own eyes, that girl, who pretends to be so 


1 68 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


good and who goes around with a text on her sim- 
pering smile — I saw her get out of a police patrol 
wagon I ” 

“ Oh! ” gasped the girls. “ You really didn’t.” 

“ I most positively did. Indeed I ” sneered the 
informer, “ every one in Dalton knows it. Tavia 
Travers was in the same scrape, and in the same 
wagon. It was after that affair that they made up 
their minds, in a hurry, to get out of their home 
town and come to Glenwood 1 ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE STRIKE OF THE REBS 

One miserable day Dorothy found all her 
friends, at least those who had claimed to be her 
friends, suddenly lost to her. Those who were not 
openly rude enough to deliberately turn their backs 
upon the astonished girl, made some pretense of 
avoiding conversation with her. 

It all came so unexpectedly, and without any 
apparent explanation, that Dorothy was stunned — > 
even the effervescent Edna only gave her a meas- 
ured smile and walked down the hall to the study 
room without breaking her silence. 

' — ' The day wore on like a dream of awful fancies 
that try to choke but withhold even such a mercy as 
a final stroke. 

What had she done? Where was Rose-Mary? 
And why would not someone come and accuse her 
outright, that she might at least know the charge 
against her — a charge serious enough to spread in 
one day throughout Glenwood school ! 

Evening fell, but even then Rose-Mary did not 
169 


170 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


come to Dorothy’s room. On the following day 
there was to be a rehearsal for the play, and how 
could Lalia repeat her lines? How could Dor- 
othy pretend to be the happy little pilgrim who 
starts alone on the uncertain path of life? 

Mrs. Pangborn was ready in the recreation hall, 
some of the others were there discussing their char- 
acters and other things. The hour for the re- 
hearsal came, and with it appeared some twenty 
girls, among them, but not their leader (so it 
seemed) being Viola Green. 

They approached Mrs. Pangborn and then 
Adele Thomas spoke. 

“ Mrs. Pangborn,” she began with flushed 
cheeks, “ we have come to say that we cannot take 
part in the play unless another girl is selected for 
the character of Lalia.” 

“ Why ! ” demanded the astonished principal. 
** What does this mean ! ” and she too flushed at 
the very idea of her pupils’ insurrection. 

“ Because — ” faltered the spokeswoman, “ we 
do not like her. She has pretended to be what she 
is not, and never will be.” 

This was a bold speech. Dorothy Dale paled 
to the lips. 

“ Hush this instant I ” ordered the surprised 
Mrs. Pangborn. “ Let no one dare make such an 


THE STRIKE OF THE REBS 


171 

assertion. If anything is wrong my office is the 
place to settle it. Leave the hall instantly. I 
shall send for you when I desire to make an investi- 
gation.” 

Mrs. Pangborn placed her hand tenderly on Dor- 
othy’s shoulder as she passed out. 

“ Do not worry, dear,” she whispered. “ This 
is some nonsense those girls with the new club idea 
have originated. It will be all right.” 

But Dorothy flew to her room and alone she 
cried — cried as if her heart would break ! If only 
Tavia had not left her ! If Rose-Mary would only 
come to her! Where was Rose-Mary? She had 
not even appeared at class that day. But, after 
all, what did it matter? Perhaps she too — no, 
Dorothy could not believe that. Rose-Mary 
would never condemn her unheard. 

How long Dorothy lay there sobbing out her 
grief on the little white bed, she did not know. 
Dusk came and the supper hour, but she made no 
attempt to leave the room. A maid had been sent 
to her with some toast and tea, and a line from dear 
Miss Crane, but Dorothy was utterly unable to do 
more than murmur a word of thanks to be repeated 
to the thoughtful teacher. 

When it grew so dark that the window shadows 
no longer tried to cheer her with their antics. Dor- 


172 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


othy was startled by a sudden tap at her door, and, 
the next moment, Rose-Mary had her in her warm, 
loving arms. 

“ What is it? ” demanded the older girl at once. 
“ Tell me about it. What have they said to you ? 

“ Oh, Rose-Mary,” sobbed Dorothy, bursting 
into fresh tears, ‘‘ why did you leave me all 
alone?” 

“ Why, I did not leave you ! I had to go into 
Rainsville early this morning, and have just this 
very minute gotten back. Mrs. Pangborn knew 
I would be late and sent James with the cart to 
meet me.” 

“ Oh, I did not know you were out of school,” 
and the explanation afforded Dorothy at least one 
ray of relief. 

“ Didn’t Nita tell you? I asked her to do so at 
study hour.” 

“ Not a girl has spoken to me all day ! ” declared 
the weeping one. “ Oh, Rose-Mary, what do you 
think it is all about?” 

“ I cannot find out. They seem determined not 
to let me know. I thought you could tell me.” 

“ I haven’t the slightest idea. If only Ned or 
Dick would tell you then I might have a chance — ” 

“ I’ll never sleep until I find out ! ” declared 
Rose-Mary. “ The idea ! ” and her brown eyes 



THE NEXT MOMENT, ROSE-MARY HAD HER IN HER WARM, LOVING 

ARMS — Page 1/2 



THE STRIKE OF THE REBS 


173 


flashed indignantly. “ I never heard of such a 
thing! You poor little dear! ” and she held Dor- 
othy to her in an unmistakable embrace. 

“ If Tavia were here — ” 

“Yes, she would settle it soon enough — with 
her fists if necessary. And I do believe that such 
work deserves just such treatment. But I will do 
all I can for you, and perhaps our vengeance will 
be just as sure if not so swift! ” 

“ It seems strange that all the girls should take 
the same view of it,” reflected Dorothy. “ I 
should think some of them would speak to me about 
it.” 

“ No good to try guessing at such a thing,” said 
Rose-Mary, wisely. “ And now do eat up that 
toast. Who sent it? ” 

“ Miss Crane.” 

“The dear! I hold Camille Crane the guar- 
dian angel of Glenwood. But eat her toast. 
There, take this sip of tea, or shall I light the lamp 
under it? ” 

“ I like it cold,” said Dorothy, whose lips were 
quite feverish. “ I will take the toast — I feel so 
much better since I have you back.” 

“ But if I am to see Dick and Ned I must be 
about it,” spoke Rose-Mary, consulting her watch. 
“ Just go to sleep and don’t worry a single bit. I’ll 


174 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


tell you all about it to-morrow,” and, with a hearty 
kiss, the sweet girl was gone. 

As if events conspired to keep Dorothy worry- 
ing, it was announced the next morning that Mrs. 
Pangborn had been called to Boston and this 
meant, of course, that the investigation would have 
to wait for her return. 

Neither was Rose-Mary successful in gaining 
the desired information. Molly had not heard all 
about it, neither had Edna, so they said, but they 
did admit they had promised not to tell either Rose 
or Dorothy, for that would mean trouble for the 
tale bearer. 

“ It’s something about Dalton,” said Edna, 
really anxious to tell Rose, but feeling she must 
keep her promise, as the matter had assumed such 
an importance. 

Molly declared that Amy Grant had told her it 
was about Dorothy and Tavia being in some awful 
scrape and that they had been arrested for it. 

This seemed so ridiculous that Rose-Mary did 
not for a moment credit it with being the story that 
caused the trouble. She would not insult Dorothy 
with a hint of that silly gossip, and, if those girls 
were foolish enough, she decided, to believe in any 
such nonsense, why, let them go right on, they must 
learn their own lesson. So it happened that Dor- 


THE STRIKE OF THE REBS 


175 


othy did not get the hint — that which would have 
been enough to afford her the opportunity of mak- 
ing an explanation. But Edna did speak pleas- 
antly to her after Rose-Mary’s talk, and Molly 
actually apologized. 

Mrs. Pangborn had been away two days, then 
a week had passed since the promise of an investi- 
gation, and Mrs. Pangborn was not at school yet. 
The girls in Viola’s club (they still regarded them- 
selves as being in it, although the forbidden meet- 
ings were suspended), left Rose-Mary, Dorothy, 
Molly and Edna entirely to themselves. 

‘‘ Dick ” and “ Ned ” were charged with telling 
the story to Rose-Mary, although they stoutly de- 
nied the allegation. But Adele Thomas suspected 
them, they had always been such friends of the 
Dalton girls, it seemed best to the “ Rebs ” to keep 
them out of further affairs of the kind — they 
should hear no more of the secrets against the de- 
spised Dorothy. 

Even the play was at a standstill, nothing but 
lessons and sadness seemed Dorothy’s share at 
Glenwood now. If only Mrs. Pangborn would 
come and give her a chance to speak for herself, she 
would write home immediately and ask to go back 
to her dear “ daddy,” to thoughtful, brave little 
Joe, and to dear, darling, baby Roger. 


176 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


Yes, and Aunt Libby would love her so — It 
would be so good to have all love again! And 
they were all at North Birchland, with Aunt Win- 
nie. Every letter brought good news of the happy 
home established there since Dorothy left for Glen- 
wood. 

“ I will ask to go home next week,” sobbed Dor- 
othy, “ whether Mrs. Pangborn comes back or not. 
I simply cannot stand this — I feel like — Oh, I 
feel like I did when I stepped out of that awful 
police patrol.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 
Dorothy’s sacrifice 

The day had been unusually tiresome, all the 
little spots of jollity, club meetings, evening fudge 
parties and the like having suddenly been aban- 
doned, and Dorothy, with Rose-Mary, was trying 
to find comfort in watching a winter sunset. 

“ Did you know Mrs. Pangborn had come 
back? ” asked Rose, burying her chin in her palms^ 
and dropping into a reclining attitude. 

“ No,” said Dorothy, simply, still watching the 
floating clouds. 

“ Yes, and I overheard a maid ask Viola Green 
to go to the office after tea.” 

Viola?” echoed Dorothy abstractedly. 

‘‘ Of course you know it is she who made all this 
fuss, and Pm right glad she has been called to give 
an explanation at last.” 

“ I have not been able to get the least hint of 
what it was all about,” mused Dorothy. ‘‘ I had a 
letter from Tavia to-day, and I’m afraid she cannot 
177 


178 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


come back this term. My last lingering hope went 
out when I read that. Tavia would be sure to dig 
it out someway.” 

Rose-Mary thought how foolish had been the 
talk she had “ dug out,” and smiled when she imag- 
ined Tavia at work at such nonsense. But she 
would not pain Dorothy with the thought of that 
talk — too silly and too unkind to bother her with, 
— decided Rose, so that then, as well as on other 
occasions when the opportunity came to her to men- 
tion the arrest story, she let it pass. 

“ Let’s go see Dick,” suggested Rose, “ we’ll 
find Ned there and perhaps we may manage some 
fun. I’m positively getting musty.” 

“ You go,” said Dorothy, just as Rose had ex- 
pected, “ I’ll do my exercises — I’m pages be- 
hind.” 

‘‘ Not without you,” argued the other, “ I have 
lots I ought to do, but I’m going to cut it for this 
night. Come along,” and she took Dorothy’s arm. 
“ I’m dying to hear Ned sing a coon song.” 

But they found number twenty-three vacant. 
Edna was out, so was Molly, in fact everybody 
seemed to be out, for knots of girls talked in every 
corner of the halls and always stopped speaking 
when Dorothy and Rose came up to them. 

“ It’s the investigation ! ” whispered Rose. 


DOROTHY’S SACRIFICE 


179 


“ They are waiting for Viola ; did you ever see 
such a crowd of magpies.” 

“ I’m going in,” said Dorothy, nervously. “ I 
can’t bear the way they look at me.” 

“ All right,” assented Rose, “ I’ll see you home 
since I dragged you out. And I’ll promise to 
make known to you the words of the very first bul- 
letin. Sorry to be so cruel, but I cannot find any 
sympathy in my heart for Viola Green.” 

“ Oh, indeed I can,” spoke up the kind-hearted 
Dorothy. “ She has so much worry about her 
mother. And perhaps she inherits some peculiar 
trait — ” 

“ Bottle Green, I suppose. Well, you can pity 
her if you like, but I will save mine until I know 
why.” 

So Rose-Mary kissed Dorothy good-night — she 
had done so regularly of late, and the two friends 
parted. For some time the hum of voices could be 
heard in the corridor outside Dorothy’s door, then 
the lights were turned out and everything seemed as 
usual. 

But in room twelve Viola Green was struggling 
— struggling with a weighty problem. What Mrs. 
Pangborn had said to her that evening in the office 
meant for Viola dismissal from school, unless — 
unless — 


i8o DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 

Viola was thinking of a plan. Surely she could 
make Dorothy agree to it, Dorothy was so easy 
to manage, so easy to influence. 

In room nineteen Dorothy had not yet gone to 
her bed. She felt nervous and restless. Then too, 
she had fully decided to leave Glenwood and she 
had to think over what that meant for her, for her 
father and for Aunt Winnie. 

What explanation could she make? She had 
never been a coward, why could she not face this 
thing and show everybody that she deserved no 
blame ? 

Surely Major Dale’s Little Captain should dis- 
play better courage than to let a crowd of foolish 
schoolgirls drive her from Glenwood I 

Dorothy was thinking over the whole miserable 
affair when a timid knock came to her door. 

It was too late for any of the girls — perhaps it 
was Mrs. Pangborn! 

Dorthy opened the door promptly. 

Viola Green stood before her — in a nightrobe, 
with her thick black hair falling about her like a 
pall. 

“ Viola ! ” whispered Dorothy, as kindly and 
quietly as if that girl had not stood between her 
and happiness. 

“ Oh, let me come in,” begged the black-eyed 


DOROTHY’S SACRIFICE i8i 

girl in a wretched voice. “Quick I Some one 
may see me ! ” 

“ What is it? ” asked Dorothy, making a chair 
ready and then turning up the light. 

“ Oh, please don’t turn that up,” begged the 
visitor. “I can’t stand it! Dorothy, I feel as 
if I should die 1 ” 

Dorothy had felt that way herself a moment 
ago, but now there was someone else to look after; 
now she must not think of herself. How different 
it was with Viola! The ability to act is often a 
wonderful advantage. Viola made excellent use 
of her talent now. 

“ Dorothy,” she began, “ I have come to ask a 
great favor of you. And I do not know how to 
begin.” She buried her face in her hands and 
left the other to draw out the interview as she 
might choose to. It was gaining time to lose it 
in that way. 

“Is it about your mother?” asked the unsus- 
pecting Dorothy. 

“ Yes, it is,” wailed Viola. “ It Is really about 
her, although I am in it too.” 

“ Is she worse? ” 

“ Dreadfully bad ” — and In this Viola did not 
deceive — . “I had a letter to-day — But Oh! 
Dorothy, promise you will help me ! ” 


1 82 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ I certainly will if I can! ” declared Dorothy, 
warmly, quite anxious about Viola’s grief. 

“ Oh, you can — and you are the only one 
who can! But how will I ask you?” and again 
Viola buried her white face in her equally white 
hands. 

“ Tell me what it is,” said Dorothy, gently. 

“ Oh, you know that foolish story about the 
Dalton police wagon — ” 

“What about it?” asked Dorothy, perplexed. 

“ Oh, that nonsense about you and Tavia riding 
in it,” and Viola tried to pass off the “ nonsense ” 
without allowing Dorothy time to realize just what 
she had to say. 

“Well, what of that?” asked Dorothy again. 

Would she ever grasp it? Viola was almost 
impatient, but of course she dare not show such a 
sentiment. 

“ Why, you know I told it to a couple of girls 
just for fun one day, and they took it up in earn- 
est. The silly things I — and then to make all 
this trouble over it ! ” 

“ What trouble could that have possibly 
made? ” and Dorothy seemed as much in the dark 
as ever. 

Could it be that Dorothy had lived it all down 
and did not now consider it trouble? Viola’s 


DOROTHY’S SACRIFICE 183 

heart gave a jump for joy at the thought. It 
might after all be easier than she expected. 

“ I am so glad they have not said anything to 
you about it. I have been dreadfully worried 
over it,” went on Viola with a sigh. 

“ I am sorry, I hope you haven’t been worrying 
on my account.” 

“ Well, I was. You did seem so sad — but I 
should have known you had better sense.” 

“ I have been and am still very sad at Glenwood. 
In fact, I have almost made up my mind to leave.” 

“ When ? ” gasped Viola. Then to hide the 
joy that Dorothy’s words brought her, she con- 
tinued, “ Do you have to go? Is someone ill?” 

“ No, not at home. But I am afraid I’ll be ill 
if I do not stop this worrying,” and Dorothy in- 
deed looked very pale and miserable. Even Viola 
could not help noticing that. 

“ I wouldn’t blame you,” spoke Viola. “ It’s 
dreadful to be homesick.” 

“ But I am not homesick,” replied Dorothy. 
“ I would not allow that feeling to conquer me 
when I know what it meant for father to let me 
come here. I must make good use of my time, 
and not be foolish. But no matter how I try to 
be happy, it seems useless. And I know I am not 
strong enough to keep that up. So,” and Dorothy 


1 84 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


sighed heavily, leaning her head against the blan- 
ket that covered the foot of her bed, “ I feel I 
must go away ! ’’ 

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She loved Glen- 
wood and could not bear the thought of leaving 
the school which had been so pleasant before Tavia 
went, and before that awful afternoon in the hall. 

“ What I really wanted to ask you, Dorothy, is 
about that story.” 

“What story?” 

“ You are not listening to me, Dorothy, and I 
am just as miserable as I can be. Do tell me you 
will do what I ask.” 

“ I certainly was listening, and I am sorry you 
are miserable. But what is it you want me to 
do?” 

Viola decided instantly upon a bold strike. She 
would make her demand and then follow it up so 
closely Dorothy would not know just what she was 
giving her promise to. 

“ Mrs. Pangborn sent for me to-night, and gave 
me such a dreadful scolding, I just cried myself 
sick,” said Viola, “ and now when she sends for 
you, and asks you about that ride, I want you to 
promise you will not deny it ! ” 

“Certainly I shall not deny it! Why should 
I?” 


DOROTHY’S SACRIFICE 


185 


“ Then, if she wants to know what It Is all 
about, just don’t give her any more Information. 
Say you did ride in the patrol wagon and that I 
had not told a He. She actually said she would 
dismiss me If — If you said I had told what was 
not true. And oh, Dorothy! You know that 
would kill mother 1 Just as sure as a shot from a 
gun would kill her, my dismissal from Glenwood 
would do It 1 ” 

“ But why should you be dismissed? If you 
only told the story In fun, and It has done no 
harm — ” 

“Of course that’s exactly the way to look at It. 
But I’m so afraid Mrs. Pangborn will take another 
view of It. Promise me, Dorothy! Oh, please 
promise me! ” and Viola actually knelt before the 
girl on the bedside. “ When Mrs. Pangborn 
asks for an explanation just say I told the truth, 
that you did ride in the police wagon. And then 
if she insists on hearing all the story make 
some excuse, but do not tell It! Oh! If you 
knew how worried I am! And how dreadful it 
would be If she took It Into her head to dismiss 
me ! ” 

As Viola expected, she did bewilder Dorothy. 
Why should Viola weep and carry on so? But of 
course her mother was very delicate and perhaps It 


1 86 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


might get mixed up so that Viola would be 
blamed ! 

As if anything could be more mixed than that 
story was at present ! Dorothy arranging to leave 
school because she could not find out why her com- 
panions had taken a sudden dislike to her, and 
Viola there telling her why, and yet keeping the 
real truth as far from her as it had ever been hid- 
den. 

“ But why should I not tell Mrs. Pangborn 
about the ride if she asks me?” insisted Dorothy, 
trying to see what was hidden from her. 

“ Because, don’t you see, those girls may have 
made foolish remarks, and they will be blamed on 
me. Just because I was silly enough to believe 
they could see through a joke. And if you do not 
tell the story, there can be no further complica- 
tions. It may be a little hard but, oh, Dorothy I 
do promise me ! ” and again Viola grasped both 
Dorothy’s cold hands in hers. 

“ I certainly would not do anything that would 
bring trouble on you,” reflected Dorothy aloud, 
“ especially if that might worry your poor, sick 
mother.” 

“ Oh, you darling! I knew you would promise. 
Now, no matter what Mrs. Pangborn says, prom- 


DOROTHY’S SACRIFICE 187 

ise you will not do more than admit you took the 
ride — be sure not to say why you took it ! ” 

Dorothy was not suspicious by nature, else she 
would have seen through the thin veil that hung 
between Viola and that word “ promise.” She 
was using it too frequently for good taste, but she 
wanted and insisted on getting a real, absolute 
Promise, 

“ But it might be rude for me to refuse to tell 
why we were in the wagon, and at the same time 
to say we were in it.” 

“ Rude I ” echoed Viola. “ What small account 
that would be compared to my dismissal from 
school.” 

Dorothy tried to think — just as Viola had 
planned, she was not able to reason it all out clearly 
— it was too complicated. The night was getting 
old, it was ten o’clock and every Glenwood girl 
was expected to be sleeping honestly, but these two 
were still far from reaching a satisfactory settle- 
ment of their difficulty. 

“ One thing is certain, Viola,” said Dorothy 
firmly, “ I cannot and will not do anything that 
would seem disrespectful to Mrs. Pangborn. Not 
only is she a grand, sweet woman, a kind, just 
teacher, but she was my mother’s friend and is still 


1 88 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


my father’s friend. So that it would be impossi- 
ble for me to do, or say, anything rude to her ! ” 

This was a declaration of principles at last. 
And Viola for the moment seemed beaten. But 
girls of her type have more than one loophole in 
such an emergency. 

“ I had no idea of asking you to do anything 
unlady-like,” she said with a show of indignation. 
“ It was you who made use of that word. I merely 
asked that you would, if possible, not make known 
to Mrs. Pangborn the details of the story. Of 
course I was foolish to think you would care about 
their effect upon me, or my dying mother.” 

Viola rose to leave. Tears were in her eyes and 
she did look forlorn. 

“ I will do all I can to save you,” Dorothy as- 
sured her, and if I can avoid the story, without 
being impertinent, I promise to do so.” 

‘‘ Oh, bless you, Dorothy Dale ! ” exclaimed the 
now truly miserable girl. “ I am sure, then, that 
it will be all right. When you make a promise 
you know how to keep it I ” and before Dorothy 
could say another word her visitor was gone. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE TANGLED WEB 

W HAT happened that night seemed like a dream 
to Dorothy. Accustomed to think of others and 
to forget herself, she pondered long and earnestly, 
over the grief that Viola had shown. Surely there 
was some strange influence between mother and 
daughter. Dorothy remembered the looks akin 
to adoration that Mrs. Green continually gave her 
daughter that day in the train. Viola had cer- 
tainly done an imprudent thing in telling the story. 
Dorothy had no Idea It was more than Imprudent; 
neither did she know how seriously that act had 
affected herself. Even now, as she tried to grasp 
the entire situation. It never occurred to her that 
this was the story that stood between her and the 
friendship of the Glenwood girls. For the time 
that unpleasant affair was almost forgotten — this 
new problem was enough to wrestle with. 

Early the next morning Mrs. Pangborn sent for 
Dorothy. The president’s appearance immedi- 
189 


190 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

ately struck the girl as different ; she was in mourn- 
ing. 

“ I hope you have not lost a dear friend,” said 
Dorothy, impulsively, before Mrs. Pangborn had 
addressed her. 

“Yes, Dorothy,” she replied, “I have — lost 
my father.” 

There was no show of emotion, but the girl saw 
that no grief could be keener. 

“ I am so sorry,” said Dorothy. 

“ Yes, my dear, I am sure you are. And your 
father knew him well. They were very old 
friends.” 

“ I have heard him speak of Mr. Stevens.” 

“ Yes, I suppose you have. Well, his troubles 
are over, I hope. But, Dorothy, I sent to ask you 
about that story some of the young ladies have 
been circulating about you. Of course it is all 
nonsense — ” 

“ What story have you reference to, Mrs. Pang- 
born? ” 

“ You must have heard it. That you and Oc- 
tavia were seen getting out of a police patrol 
wagon in Dalton. It is absurd, of course.” 

“ But we did ride in a patrol wagon, Mrs. Pang- 
born,” answered Dorothy, trying hard to keep 


THE TANGLED WEB 


191 

Viola’s tearful face before her mind, to guide her 
in her statements. 

“ How foolish, child. It might have been a 
joke — Tell me about it! ” 

‘‘ If you would excuse me, Mrs. Pangborn, and 
not think me rude, I would rather not,” said Dor- 
othy, her cheeks aflame. 

“ Not tell me I ” and the lady raised her eye- 
brows. “ Why, Dorothy 1 Is there any good 
reason why you do not wish to tell me ? ” 

“ Yes, I have made a promise. It may not be 
of much account, but, if you will excuse me, it 
would relieve me greatly not to go over it.” 

Mrs. Pangborn did not answer at once. For 
a girl to admit she had ridden in a police van and 
for that girl to be Dorothy Dale I It seemed in- 
credible. 

“ Dorothy,” she began, gravely, “ whatever may 
be back of this, I am sure you have not been at 
fault — seriously at least. And since you prefer 
not to make me your confidant I cannot force you 
to do so. I am sorry. I had expected something 
different. The young ladies will scarcely make 
apologies to you under the circumstances.” 

She made a motion as if to dismiss Dorothy. 
Plainly the head of Glenwood School could not be 


192 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


expected to plead with a pupil — certainly not to- 
day, when her new and poignant grief could not be 
hidden. 

“ I shall say to the young ladies,” said the 
teacher, finally, “ that they are to show you all the 
respect they had shown you heretofore. That you 
have done nothing to be ashamed of — I am sure 
of this, although you make the matter so mysteri- 
ous. I would like to have compelled the girl who 
spread this report to make amends, but I cannot 
do that. You do not deny her story.” 

At that moment Dorothy saw, or at least 
guessed, what it all meant. That had been the 
story of her trouble ! It was that which made the 
girls turn their backs on her — that which had 
almost broken her heart. And now she had put it 
out of her power to contradict their charges ! 

Mrs. Pangborn had said “ good morning,” 
Dorothy was alone in the corridor. She had left 
the office and could not now turn back I 

Oh, why had she been so easily deceived ? Why 
had Viola made her give that promise ? Surely it 
must have been more than that I The story, to 
cause all the girls to shun her ! And perhaps Mrs. 
Pangborn believed it all ! No, she had refused to 
believe it. But what should Dorothy do now? 

Oh, what a wretched girl she was ! How much 


THE TANGLED WEB 


193 


it had cost her to lose Tavial Tavia would have 
righted this wrong long ago. But now she stood 
alone! She could not even speak of leaving the 
school without strengthening the cruel suspicion, 
whatever it might be. 

What would she do? To whom would she 
turn? 

Heart-sick, and all but ill, Dorothy turned into 
her lonely little room. She would not attempt to 
go to classes that morning. 


CHAPTER XX 


SUSPICIONS 

“ What did she say? ” eagerly asked a knot of 
girls, as Viola Green made her appearance the 
morning after her interview with the head of Glen- 
wood school. 

“ Humph ! ’’ sniffed Viola, “ what could she 
say?’* 

“Did she send for Dorothy?” went on the 
curious ones. 

“ I have just seen her step out of the office this 
minute and she couldn’t see me. Her eyes 
wouldn’t let her.” 

“ Then she didn’t deny it I ” spoke Amy Brook. 
“ I could scarcely make myself believe that of her.” 

“ Ask her about it, then,” suggested Viola, to 
whom the term brazen would seem, at that mo- 
ment, to be most applicable. 

“ Oh, excuse me,” returned Amy. “ I never 
wound where I can avoid it. The most polite way 
always turns out the most satisfactory.” 

“ And do you suppose she is going to leave 

194 


SUSPICIONS 


195 


school?” asked Nita Brant, timidly, as if afraid 
of her own voice in the matter. 

“ She told me so last night,” said Viola, meekly. 
“ I don’t blame her.” 

“ No,” said a girl with deep blue eyes, and a 
baby chin, “ I do not see how any girl could stand 
such cuts, and Dorothy seemed such a sweet girl.” 

“ Better go and hug her now,” sneered Viola, 
“ I fancy you will find her rolled up in bed, with 
her red nose, dying for air.” 

‘‘ It is the strangest thing — ” demurred Amy. 

** Not at all,” insisted Viola, “ all sweet girls 
have two sides to their characters. But I am sick 
of the whole thing. Let’s drop it.” 

“ And take up Dorothy again? ” eagerely asked 
Nita. 

“ Oh, just as you like about that. If you want 
to associate with girls who ride in police 
wagons — ” 

“ Well, I do want to ! ” declared Nita, suddenly. 
‘‘ And I don’t believe one word against Dorothy 
Dale. It must be some mistake. I will ask her 
about it myself.” 

“If you wish to spare her you will do nothing 
of the kind,” said Viola. “ I tell you it is abso- 
lutely true. That she has just this minute ad- 
mitted it to Mrs. Pangborn. Don’t you think if 


196 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

it were a mistake I would have to correct it, when 
the thing has now been thoroughly investigated? ” 

It was plain that many of the girls were apt to 
take Nita’s view. They had given the thing a 
chance to develop, and they were satisfied now 
that a mistake had been made somewhere. Of 
course the clever turns made by Viola, kept “ the 
ball rolling.” 

“ There’s the bell I ” announced Amy, reluc- 
tantly leaving the discussion unfinished. This was 
the signal for laying aside all topics other than 
those relative to the curriculum of Glenwood, and, 
as the girls filed into the chapel for prayers, more 
than one missed Dorothy, her first morning to ab- 
sent herself from the exercise. 

Miss Higley was in charge, Mrs. Pangborn also 
being out of her accustomed place. 

Directly after the short devotions there was 
whispering. 

“ Young ladies ! ” called the teacher, in a voice 
unusually severe, you must attend strictly to your 
work. There has been enough lax discipline in 
Glenwood recently. I will have no more of it.” 

“ Humph I ” sniffed Viola, aside, “ since when 
did she buy the school 1 ” 

Miss Higley’s eyes were fastened upon her. 
But Viola’s recent experiences had the effect of 


SUSPICIONS 


197 


making her reckless — she felt quite immune to 
punishment now. 

“ Attend to your work, Miss Green ! ” called 
Miss Higley. 

“ Attend to your own,” answered Viola under 
her breath, but the teacher saw that she had spoken, 
and knew that the remark was not a polite one. 

“What did you say?” asked the teacher. 

“ Nothing,” retorted Viola, still using a rude 
tone. 

“ You certainly answered me, and I insist upon 
knowing what you said.” 

Viola was silent now, but her eyes spoke vol- 
umes. 

“ Will you please repeat that remark? ” insisted 
Miss Higley. 

“ No,” said Viola, sharply, “ I will not! ” 

Miss Higley’s ruddy face flashed a deep red. 
To have a pupil openly defy a teacher is beyond 
the forgiveness of many women less aggressive 
than Miss Higley. 

“You had better leave the room,” she said — 
“ take your books with you.” 

“ I won’t require them,” snapped Viola, intend- 
ing to give out the impression that she would leave 
school if she were to be treated in that manner by 
Miss Higley. 


198 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


“ Get at your work, young ladies,” finished the 
teacher, fastening her eyes on her own books, and 
thus avoiding anything further with Viola. 

To reach her room Viola was obliged to pass 
Dorothy’s. Just as she came up to number nine- 
teen Dorothy opened the door. Her eyes were 
red from weeping, and she looked very unhappy 
indeed. 

“ Oh, do come in Viola,” she said, surprised to 
see the girl before her. “ I was going to you di- 
rectly after class — I did not know you were out.’^ 

“ I cannot come now,” answered Viola. “ I 
must go to my room ! ” 

“ Is there anything the matter? ” inquired Dor- 
othy, kindly. 

“ Yes,” replied Viola, using her regular tactics, 
that of forcing Dorothy to make her own conclu- 
sions. 

“ Is your mother worse ? ” 

“ I, oh — my head aches so. You must excuse 
me Dorothy,” and at this Viola burst into tears, 
another ruse that always worked well with the sym- 
pathetic Dorothy. 

The fact was Dorothy had spent a very mis- 
erable hour that morning, after her talk with the 
president, and she had finally decided to put the 
whole think to Viola, to ask her for a straight- 


SUSPICIONS 


199 


forward explanation, and to oblige her to give it. 
But now Viola was in trouble — Dorothy had no 
idea that the trouble was a matter of temper, and 
of course her mother must be worse, thought Dor- 
othy. How glad she was, after all, that she did 
make the sacrifice ! It was much easier for her to 
stand it than to crush Viola with any more grief! 

Crush her indeed! It takes more than the 
mere words of a just school teacher and more than 
the pale face of a persecuted girl to crush such a 
character as that which Viola Green was lately cul- 
tivating. 

And as Viola turned into her room she de- 
termined never to apologize to Miss Higley. She 
would leave Glenwood first. 

Meanwhile what different sentiments were strug- 
gling in Dorothy’s heart? She had bathed her 
face, and would go into the classroom. She might 
be in time for some work, and now there was no 
use in wasting time over the trouble. She would 
never mention it to Viola, that poor girl had 
enough to worry her. Neither would she try to 
right it in any way. After all, Mrs. Pangborn be- 
lieved in her, so did Edna and Molly, and a letter 
from home that morning told of the recovery of 
Tavia’s mother. Perhaps Tavia would be back 
to school soon. It might be hard to meet thel 


ijoo DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


scornful looks of the other girls, but it could not 
possibly be as hard as what Viola had to bear. 

So thought our dear Little Captain, she who was 
ever ready to take upon her young and frail 
shoulders the burdens of others. 

But such virtue plainly has its own reward — 
Dorothy Dale entered the classroom at eleven 
o’clock that morning, with peace in her heart. 
Viola Green was out of the school room and was 
fighting the greatest enemies of her life — Pride, 
mingled with Jealousy. 

It had been that from the first, from the very 
first moment she set her eyes on Dorothy Dale, 
whose beautiful face was then framed in the omi- 
nous black lining of the police patrol. 

It had been jealousy ever since. Dorothy had 
made friends with the best girls in Glenwood, she 
had been taken up by the teachers, she had been 
given the best part in the play (but Viola could 
not stand that) and now that the play had been 
abandoned on account of the death of Mrs. Pang- 
born’s father, and that Dorothy had been dis- 
graced, what more did Viola crave? 

Was not her vengeance complete? 

But the girls were beginning to doubt the story, 
and those who did not actually disbelieve it were 
tiring of its phases. The promised excitement did 


SUSPICIONS 


201 


not develop. All the plans of the Rebs were 
dead, and to be a member of that party did not 
mean happiness, — it meant actual danger of disci- 
pline. 

Viola was too shrewd not to notice all this, and 
to realize that her clientele was falling off alarm- 
ingly. 

Would she really leave Glenwood? The wrong 
done Dorothy seemed to be righting itself in spite 
of all her devices, and that girl, disgraced though 
she stood in the eyes of many, seemed happier at 
the moment than Viola herself. 

“ I wish I had gone home when I had father’s 
last letter,” reflected the girl, looking in her mir- 
ror at the traces of grief that insisted on setting 
their stamp upon her olive face. “ But now, of 
course that old cat Higley will make a fuss — 
Oh, I wish I never had seen these cracked walls. 
I wish I had gone to a fashionable school — ” 

She stopped suddenly. Why not get away now 
to that swell school near Boston? She could 
surely set aside her mother’s foolish sentiment 
about Glenwood, — just because she had met Mrs. 
Pangborn abroad and had become interested in this 
particular school for girls. 

Viola had enough of it. She would leave — go 
home. And then perhaps — she might get to the 
Beaumonde Academy. 


CHAPTER XXI 


SUNSHINE AGAIN 

A SENSE of suppressed excitement greeted Dor- 
othy as she entered the classroom. Edna and 
Molly managed to greet her personally with a 
pleasant little nod, and even Miss Higley raised 
her eyes to say good morning. 

Certainly Dorothy felt heroic — and she had 
good reason. Having suffered so long from a 
mysterious insult, she now had fortified herself 
against its stigma. 

At the same time she was conscious of an awful 
weight hanging over her head — like the gloom 
of those who suffer without hope. 

“ She just looks like a sweet nun,” whispered 
Ned to Amy. 

“ Doesn’t she,” agreed Amy. “ I wish we 
could make her smile.” 

But Dorothy buried herself in her studies, with 
a determination bom of perfect self-control. 

The morning wore into mid-day, then the recrea- 
tion hour brought relaxation from all mental effort. 
A number of the girls who had been at first con- 


202 


SUNSHINE AGAIN 


203 


spicuous figures in the Rebs made a particular 
effort to speak to Dorothy. She met their ad- 
vances pleasantly, but with some hesitancy — they 
might only mean to make an opportunity for 
further trouble, Dorothy thought 

“ See here ! called Edna, running along the 
walk after Dorothy. “ Have you taken the black 
veil? Not that such a vocation is to be made 
light of,*’ seeing a frown come over Dorothy’s 
face, “ but you know we cannot spare you just 
yet. You may be the dear little nun of Glenwood, 
but you will have to keep up with the Glens and 
the Nicks. We are planning a reunion, you 
know.” 

“Yes, and we are going to give a play on our 
own account,” said Molly, coming up at that mo- 
ment. “ Mrs. Pangborn has granted permission 
and we are about to select the operetta — it will 
be a musical affair this time.” 

“ That ought to be lovely,” responded Dorothy. 
“ There are so many fine players among the girls.” 

“ Yes, and you can sing,” declared Molly. 
“ We are counting on you for our prima donna.” 

“ Oh, and we might have Viola accompany her 
on the violin! Wouldn’t that be divine!” en- 
thused a girl from Portland. 

A hush followed this suggestion. It was the 


204 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


awkward kind that actually sounds louder than a 
yell of surprise. 

“What is it?” asked Rose-Mary, joining the 
group and giving Dorothy a hug “ on the half 
shell,” which in the parlance of schoolgirls means 
a spontaneous fling of the alrms around the one on 
the defensive. 

“ Cologne v^ill be sure to suggest something 
from English Lit.” predicted Molly. “ She being 
a star in that line herself thinks the stuff equally 
pie for all of us. We might try French — I said 
‘ try,’ Ned Ebony; you need not strangle yourself 
with that gasp 1 ” 

“ Came near it,” admitted the one with her 
mouth open. “ Fancy us doing French I ” 

“ Then suppose we go back to the woods — try 
Red Riding Hood?” 

“Fine and dandy 1” exclaimed Nita Brant. 
“ ril be the wolf.” 

“ Because he was the only party who got in on 
the eating,” remarked Edna. “ Let me be the 
squire — and don’t all speak at once for the grand- 
mother’s fate.” 

“Think it over girls; think it over!” advised 
Nita. “ Back to the woods might not suit some 
of our rural friends. For my part I prefer — 
ahem ! Something tragic ! ” 


SUNSHINE AGAIN 


205 


“ Beat Red Riding Hood for tragedy then,” 
challenged one of the group. “ Of all the atroci- 
ties — ” 

“ And desperate deals — ” 

“ To say nothing of the grandmother’s night 
cap going in the mix up — ” 

And so they laughed it all off, and marveled 
that the mere mention of the old story should 
awaken such comment. 

Dorothy seemed to enjoy the innocent sallies. 
It was pleasant to be with the jolly crowd again, 
and to feel something akin to the old happi- 
ness. 

“What happened to Fiddle?” asked Amy 
Brook. “ I thought she would come back to class 
when her pout wore off.” 

“Pout?” repeated Dorothy. “I met her in 
the hall and she seemed to be in great distress.” 

“ Shouldn’t wonder,” remarked Nita. “ Any 
one who crosses swords with Miss Higley is bound 
to come to grief sooner or later. If I had been 
Fiddle I should have apologized at once — easiest 
way out of it with Higley.” 

Dorothy was confused. She had no idea of 
the scene that had taken place in the schoolroom 
that morning between Miss Higley and Viola. 
But as it was impossible for her to keep up with 


2o6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


the run of school events lately, she ventured no 
more questions. 

“When’s Chrissy coming back?” asked Edna. 
“ I’m almost dead without her. Haven’t had a 
single scrap since she went. And I’ve got the 
greatest lot corked up ready to explode from spon- 
taneous combustion.” 

“ I hope she’ll be tack before the end of this 
term,” answered Dorothy. “ I heard to-day her 
mother is entirely recovered.” 

“ Good for the mother I Also more power to 
her. I think I’ll crawl up the skylight and do 
perfectly reckless stunts on the roof when Chrissy 
returns just to celebrate,” and suiting her words 
with the jubilant mood the girl waltzed away 
down the path, making queer “ jabs ” at the in- 
offensive air that was doing its best to make life 
bright and pleasant for the girls at Glenwood. 


CHAPTER XXII 


MISS CRANE AND VIOLA 

Viola Green was thoroughly upset. She had 
quarreled with Miss Higley. She had more than 
quarreled with Dorothy. Mrs. Panghorn had 
told her plainly that if her story concerning Dor- 
othy was found to be untrue she would have to 
leave Glenwood, for that story had touched on 
the fair name of a pupil of the school, to say 
nothing more. Having defamed the honored 
name of Dale made the matter of still greater 
importance. 

What should she do? To leave Glenwood 
seemed to be the only answer to that oft-repeated 
question. But to get into Beaumonde required 
a clean record from the former academy, and 
would Mrs. Panghorn furnish such a record under 
the circumstances? 

It was evening, and the other girls were proba- 
bly enjoying themselves, visiting about and set- 
tling wherever there was the best prospect of 
207 


2o8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

fudge — the only confection students were allowed 
to make in their rooms. 

But Viola would not go out, she was in no 
humor for visiting. While reclining on her small 
white bed, thinking the situation over until her head 
ached from very monotony, a note was slipped 
under her door. She saw it instantly but did not 
at once attempt to pick it up — the sender might 
be waiting outside and notice her readiness to 
become acquainted with the contents. 

Hearing the light step make its way down the 
hall Viola took and opened the note. 

“ Humph ! ” she sniffed, “ from Adele Thomas.” 
Then she glanced over the note. It read : 

My Dear Viola: 

We are all so worried about you. Do please 
come out of your room or let some of us in. We 
wish very much to talk to you, but if you persist 
in keeping us at bay won’t you please make up 
your mind to apologize at once to Miss Higley? 
There are so many counts against us this month 
that the latest is positively dangerous in Its present 
form. Do Viola, dear, answer, and tell us you 
feel better and that you will comply with the 
request of the committee. ^ Lovingly yours. 

Lowly. 


MISS CRANE AND VIOLA 


209 


“ Apologize I ” echoed the girl. As if my 
mother’s daughter could ever stoop to that weak 
American method of crawling out of things ! ” and 
her dark eyes flashed while her olive face became 
as intense as if the girl were a desperate woman. 

“ Don’t they know that the blood of the de Car- 
los flows in my veins? ” she asked herself, “ No, 
that’s so, they do not know it — nor shall they. 
Let them think me Italian, French or whatever 
they choose — but let them not trifle with Spain. 
Ah, Spain I and how I have longed to see that 
beautiful country with mother — darling mother! ” 

This thought of affection never failed to soften 
the temper of the wily Viola. True she had seen 
fit always to hide her mother’s nationality from 
the schoolgirls. Often they had questioned her 
about her foreign face and manners, but like many 
who do not admire the frankness of Americans, 
it had pleased her to remain simply “ foreign.” 

A supercilious smile crept over Viola’s face. 
She held Adele’s note in her hand and read it 
again. 

“ Worried about me ! ” she repeated, “ as if 
they care for anything but excitement and non- 
sense. And they are aching for me to give the 
next spasm of excitement! Well, they may get 
that, sooner than they expect.” 


210 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


A step stopped at her door. Then a light tap 
sounded on the panel. Casting aside the note, 
Viola opened the portal and was confronted by 
Miss Crane. Without waiting for an invitation 
the pleasant little woman stepped inside. 

“ Good evening, Viola,” she began. “ Mrs. 
Pangborn sent me to have a talk with you.’* 

“Yes?” replied Viola, in her most non-com- 
mittal tone. 

“ She has been much worried of late, so many 
things have been going on that did not add to her 
peace of mind.” 

“ That’s a pity,” said Viola, and this time her 
tone admitted of any number of interpretations. 
But Miss Crane expected all this and was fully 
prepared for it. 

“ Especially that matter about Dorothy Dale,” 
went on the teacher. “ She is determined that the 
whole thing shall be cleared up at once.” 

“ It ought to be,” said Viola coolly, without 
appearing' to take the least interest in the conver- 
sation. 

“ In the first place,” argued Miss Crane, “ Mrs. 
Pangborn wished me to say to you that a full 
explanation on your part would in the end save 
you much — trouble.” 

“ State’s evidence ! ” almost sneered Viola. 


MISS CRANE AND VIOLA 


2II 


“ Not at all,” contradicted her visitor. “ Sim- 
ply a matter of common justice.” 

“ I believe that’s what they call it,” persisted 
the girl, tossing her head about to show a weari- 
ness of the whole miserable thing.” 

“ You insist that you saw Dorothy Dale and 
Octavia Travers alight from a police patrol 
wagon? ” asked Miss Crane severely. 

“I do I ” answered Viola, as solemnly as if 
taking an oath. 

“And that you were told they had been ar- 
rested for some theft? Garden stuff, I believe? ” 

“ I heard Nat White, Dorothy Dale’s own 
cousin, say so,” again declared Viola. 

“And you had reason to believe he was in 
earnest? ” 

“ Every reason to believe and know so.” 

Miss Crane stopped. She had expected Viola 
to break down on this cross-examination, but evi- 
dently her story was not to be shaken. 

“ Is that all?” asked the girl with a show of 
hauteur. 

“ No,” said Miss Crane. “ I would like you 
to tell me the whole story.” 

“ And if I refuse? ” 

» “ You surely would not risk dismissal? ” 

“ No risk at all, my dear Miss Crane, I court 


212 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


it,” and all the Spanish fire of Viola’s nature 
flashed and flamed with her words. 

“ Viola I Do you know what you are saying ? ” 

“ Perfectly. Have you finished with the ‘ third 
degree ? ’ ” 

“ Refrain from slang, if you please. I never 
countenance such expressions.” 

Viola only smiled. Evidently Miss Crane had 
reached “ the end of her rope.” 

“ And you will make no explanation of why you 
told such a story to the girls of Glenwood? ” and 
the calm voice of the teacher rang out clearly 
now. “ No other reason to give for depriving 
one of the sweetest and best of these girls of her 
happy place among her companions? And that 
same girl refuses to tell her own story, because 
of a promise! She must bear all the shame, all 
the suspicion, all the wrong silently, when every- 
body knows she is shielding someone. Viola 
Green, to whom did Dorothy Dale make that 
promise ? ” 

“ How should I know? ” replied the other with 
curled lip. 

“Who, then, is Dorothy Dale shielding?” 

“Shielding? Why, probably her dear friend, 
Tavia Travers. I don’t know, of course. I am 
merely trying to help you out I ” 


MISS CRANE AND VIOLA 


213 


That shot blazed home — it staggered Miss 
Crane. She had never thought of Octavia I And 
she was so close a friend of Dorothy’s — besides 
being over reckless! It might be that Dorothy 
was shielding Tavia and that she would not and 
could not break a promise made to the absent 
member of Glenwood school. 

Miss Crane was silent. She sat there gazing 
at Viola. Her pink and white cheeks assumed 
a red tinge. 

Viola was victorious again. She had only made 
a suggestion and that suggestion had done all the 
rest. 

“ I will talk to Mrs. Pangborn,” said Miss 
Crane finally, and she arose and quietly left the 


room. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE REAL STORY 

That night before twelve o’clock a telegram 
was delivered at Glenwood school. It was for 
Viola Green and called her to the bedside of her 
mother. It simply read: “Come at once. 
Mother very ill.” 

So the girl who had been tempting fate, who 
had refused to right a wrong, who had turned a 
deaf ear to the pleadings of friends and the com- 
mands of superiors, was now summoned to the 
bedside of the one person in all the world she 
really loved — her mother 1 

Viola grasped the message from the hands of 
Mrs. Pangborn herself, who thought to deliver it 
with as little alarm as possible. But it was not 
possible to deceive Viola. Instantly she burst into 
tears and moans with such violence that the prin- 
cipal was obliged to plead with the girl to regard 
the feelings of those whose rooms adjoined hers. 
But this did not affect Viola. She declared her 
darling little mother would be dead before she 
could reach her, and even blamed the school that 
214 


THE REAL STORY 


215 


marked the distance between the frantic daughter 
and the dying parent. 

How bitterly she moaned and sobbed! What 
abandon and absolute lack of self-control she dis- 
played, Mrs. Pangborn could not help observing. 
This was the character Viola had fostered, and 
this was the character that turned upon her in her 
grief and refused to offer her sympathy or hope. 

“ You should try to control yourself, Viola,” 
said Mrs. Pangborn gently. “ You will make 
yourself ill, and be unfit for travel.” 

But all arguments were without avail. The 
girl wept herself into hysterics, and then finally, 
overcome with sheer exhaustion, fell into a trou- 
bled sleep. 

On the first train the next morning Viola left 
Glenwood. It was Dorothy who helped her dress 
and pack, and Dorothy who tried to console her. 

At one moment it did seem that Dorothy had 
finally reached the heart of the strange girl, for 
Viola threw her arms about the one who had made 
such sacrifices for an unrelenting pride, and begged 
she would pray that the sick mother might be 
spared. 

“ If she is only left to me a little longer,” 
pleaded Viola, “ I will try to be satisfied, and try 
to do what is right. Oh, I know I have done 


2i6 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


wrong,” she wailed. “ I know you have suffered 
for me, but, Dorothy, dear, you did it for my 
mother, and I will always bless you for it. If I 
had time to-day I would try — -^try to clear you 
before the girls.” 

“ Then I will make the explanation,” said Dor- 
othy, relieved to feel that at last she might speak 
for herself. 

“ Oh, please don’t,” spoke up Viola again, not 
quite sure that she was willing to be humiliated 
in spite of the words she had just spoken. “ Try 
to forgive me, and then what does it matter about 
the others? ” 

So Viola Green passed out of Glenwood, and 
left Dorothy Dale praying that the sick woman 
might be spared. 

“ I could not do anything against her,” Dorothy 
reflected. “ Poor girl, she has enough to bear I 
It must be righted some day — oh, yes, some day 
it must all come right. Another Power looks after 
that.” 

A long letter from home, from Major Dale, 
was brought to Dorothy on the early mail. This 
cheered her up and reflected its smiles of happiness 
on all the school day. 

The major told how well the boys were; how 
they longed to see Dorothy, and how little Roger 


THE REAL STORY 


217 


had saved all his kindergarten cards and pictures 
for her. Besides these a wonderful house made 
of toothpicks and stuck together with green 
peas was in imminent danger of collapse if Doro- 
thy did not hurry up and come home. Then Aunt 
Winnie had planned a surprise for all her children 
who were away at school, the letter also stated, 
and on the list, for the good time promised, were 
Dorothy, Tavia, Nat, Ned, Joe (and of course 
little Roger), besides a guest that each of these 
mentioned would be allowed to invite home for 
the holiday. Easter was only a few weeks off. 

The day passed quickly indeed. Spring sun- 
shine had come, everything had that waiting look 
it takes on just before the buds come, and Dorothy 
was almost happy. If only everybody could know 
that she and Tavia had not done wrong and had 
not been in disgrace I 

The classes were dismissed and Dorothy was 
up in her room reading her father’s letter for the 
third time. 

There was a rush through the hall! Then the 
girls’ voices in laughter stopped exactly at her 
door I 

The next minute Tavia bolted into the room. 

“ Not a soul to meet me 1 ” she began cycloning 
around and winding up with crushing Dorothy. 


21 8 DOROTHY DALE AT GLEN WOOD 


“ Oh, you old honey-girl! ” and Tavia kissed her 
friend rapturously. ‘‘ I have been dead and 
burled without you. Run away, little girls (to 
those peeping In at the door) . Run away — we’re 
busy.” 

Dorothy was so surprised she just gazed at 
Tavia, but a world of love and welcome went out 
In the look. “If we had known you were com- 
ing,” she faltered. 

“ Known It I Couldn’t you feel my presence 
near! Well, James brought me up. But say, 
Dorothy ! I ran across — whom do you think? ” 

“ Couldn’t guess ! ” 

“Viola Green! And say, she looked like her 
own ghost. Her train had a long wait at noon 
and she saw me. And the way she bolted out 
of her car and made her way to my window, just 
to say, ‘ Tell Dorothy to go ahead and tell her 
story ! It will be all right ! ’ Now I’d like to 
know If Viola Green had really gone daffy? ” 

“Why, no, Tavia. It Is all about — Oh, It Is 
such a long story.” 

“ The very thing for mine — a serial. There’s 
Cologne and Ned and Dick! Come on In, every- 
body ! I want you all to see this hat before I take 
It off. The milliner declared I would never get 
it on right again.” 


THE REAL STORY 


219 


In rushed the “ troop,” all so glad to see Tavia 
back, and all aching for a glimpse of the new 
spring hat. 

“ Tell me about the story, Cologne,” said Tavia. 
“ You can go on admiring me just the same. 
What’s Dorothy’s serial that Viola has the copy- 
right on ? ” 

‘^That is precisely what we want you to find 
out,” answered Rose-Mary. “We have been try- 
ing to do it for a whole month.” 

“ And I’ll wager it won’t take me ten minutes 1 ” 

“ But do take your things off,” pleaded Dorothy. 

“ Not yet. I can’t give up this hat so uncere- 
moniously. Isn’t it a beauty ? But for the story. 
Go ahead, Cologne.” 

“ Why, I couldn’t tell where to begin,” begged 
off Rose-Mary. 

“ Begin at the place where Dorothy Dale went 
to pieces, and lost all her pretty pink cheeks,” 
suggested Tavia, noting how much Dorothy had 
changed during her absence. 

“ I’ll tell you,” said Rose-Mary. “ We’ll all 
run away and let you have a minute to yourselves. 
Perhaps the serial will leak out.” 

“ What is it, Dorothy?” asked Tavia seriously 
when they were alone. 

“ Why, all about that police ride,” sighed Dor- 


220 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


othy. “ I really never could find out just what 
story was told — they kept me in ignorance of it 
all, except that it was dreadful. Oh, Tavial 
Only lately the girls notice me. They all gave 
me up, all but Ned, Dick and Cologne ! ” 

“ Gave you up 1 And about that story 1 Why 
didn’t you tell them?” 

“ Oh, I had promised Viola, and she was afraid 
she would be dismissed — ” 

“ Promised Viola I ” and Tavia stared blankly 
at Dorothy. “You poor little darling! And no 
one here to take your part I ” and she held Doro- 
thy to her heart a moment. “ Who knows the 
story as she told it — I always knew she would 
tell it!” 

“ Perhaps some of the Pilgrims may know. 
They split and formed the Rebs.” 

“Without me? Pll bet they died an early 
death ! Pm the only thoroughbred Reb in Amer- 
ica ! ” and she brandished her hatpin wildly above 
her head. “ But you just stay here a minute. 
My ten minutes alloted for clearing up the mys- 
tery is escaping,” and at this Tavia flew out of 
the room. 

It seemed she could not have gone down the 
corridor when she ran Into Dorothy’s room again. 

“ Well, of all the frosts! ” she exclaimed. “ I 


THE REAL STORY 


221 


almost passed away when that stuttering girl from 
Maine tried to tell me. But I haven’t seen Mrs. 
Pangborn yet. I’ll just run into the office and 
show her my hat,” and she was gone again. 

“ How good it was to have Tavia back,” thought 
Dorothy. It seemed as if everything had been 
made right already. But Tavia would surely do 
something surprising. What would she say to 
Mrs. Pangborn? 

But while Dorothy was thinking it over, a very 
lively little chat was taking place in the principal’s 
office. At the first word about the “ Story,” Tavia 
blurted out the entire tale in such a way that even 
Mrs. Pangborn was obliged to admit she “ knew 
how to string words together.” 

“My dear I” said that lady, when Tavia 
stopped, “ I think this matter has gone so far it 
will be best to make a public explanation.” 

“Let me make it? ” asked the girl eagerly. 

“ If you wish,” agreed Mrs. Pangborn. 

“Where? When?” asked Tavia impatiently. 

“ Now, if you like,” consulting her watch. 
“ We had called a meeting of the Glenwoods for 
five, it wants a quarter of that now. Suppose 
you speak to them in the hall?” 

“ Gloriotious ! ” exclaimed Tavia, forgetting to 
whom she was making the self-coined remark. 


222 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


The girls were already filing into the hall. 
Dorothy went with Rose-Mary, Tavia preferring 
to go in last and so show everyone the spring hat. 
It certainly was pretty, no one could deny that, 
and, as she stepped to the platform, at the signal 
from Mrs. Pangbom, she looked as Dorothy had 
seen her look before — like an actress 1 

Her golden brown hair formed a halo about her 
face and the flowers (what she called the spring 
hat), made a beautiful wreath buried in the soft 
shining tresses. 

A buzz of excitement greeted her appearance 
on the platform. Then she began: 

“My dear teachers (they were all present), 
friends and acquaintances 1 ” 

“ Three cheers for the acquaintances,” broke 
in one girl, and this was the signal for a hearty 
cheer. 

When order prevailed again, Tavia continued: 

“ I understand you have heard a queer story 
about the girls from Dalton ” (there was silence 
now), “ and with the kind permission of our dear 
principal, I will try to tell you all of that story. 
I have been informed that you were told that Dor- 
othy Dale and myself had been arrested in a 
country place, taken to a lock-up and then bailed 


THE REAL STORY 


225 


out! ” (Dorothy looked more surprised than any 
one present ; this was the part of the story she had 
never heard). “Well,” went on Tavia, “that 
is so absurd that I cannot imagine the complica- 
tions that could possibly have won such a story a 
hearing. But perhaps when I am here a few hours, 
I will be allowed to laugh over the details. How- 
ever, I will tell you all exactly what did happen,” 
and Tavia cleared her throat like a veteran speaker. 

“ One lovely day last August, Dorothy Dale and. 
her two cousins, Ned and Nat White from North 
Birchland, took me for an automobile ride. We 
had a number of adventures during the day and 
towards night something happened to the machine, 
and the boys were obliged to leave us while they 
went to have something repaired. While they 
were away a man, who afterward turned out to be 
a lunatic, came along, and as we ran from the car^ 
he got into it.” 

“ Oh I mercy ! ” exclaimed Nita Brant, and 
similar exclamations went about the room. 

“ When the boys got back,” went on Tavia, 
“ and we felt they never would come in sight, we 
had waited so long, and were so frightened, they 
could not induce the man to leave the machine. 
He was crazy and wanted a ride. Finally one 


224 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 

of the boys, Ned, was obliged to get into the car 
with him and he rode off, never stopping until 
he landed the lunatic in Danvers jail! ” 

Cheers again interrupted the speaker, and she 
paused a moment — long enough to look at Dor- 
othy, then she went on : 

“ But we were all alone out there, it was getting 
dark, and how were we to get back to town, nine 
miles off? That was the point where the police 
patrol wagon came into our lives. The wagon 
was out looking for the escaped prisoner, at least 
the officers in it were, and upon questioning us, 
and hearing how we had lost the auto, they asked 
us to ride home in their patrol! ” 

“ Three cheers for the officers ! ” broke out 
Edna, and the shouts that followed caused Mi3S 
Higley to put up her hands to protect her ears. 

‘‘ Well, we did ride home in the patrol,” cried 
Tavia, anxious now to finish, “ and when Nat 
stood by the wagon trying to jolly those curious 
ones about him, a young man, in the company of 
— of one who has just left us, asked Nat, ‘ Speed- 
ing?’ and Nat answered, ‘No, just melons.’ 
Now that is the entire story of our famous ride, 
and I thank you for your kind attention, etc., etc.,” 
and bowing profusely Tavia managed to get down 
from the platform. 


THE REAL STORY 


225 


Then Mrs. Pangborn stood up. 

“ My dear pupils,” she said, “ I cannot tell you 
how glad I am to have this matter settled. It 
has given great sorrow to see our dear friend 
Dorothy suffer so. And you do not yet know the 
real story of her heroism. When I asked her 
about this report she begged me not to question 
her, because she had promised a girl not to tell 
the story if I would allow her to remain silent. 
That girl urged as her excuse her own possible 
dismissal from school should Dorothy make known 
the facts, not the story that has been told me, and 
told you, but those facts which you have just now 
heard for the first time. And to save the feelings 
of a selfish and I must say it — dishonest girl, — 
Dorothy Dale has willingly suffered your scorn and 
my possible displeasure. But I never doubted her 
for one moment. And now we must forgive the 
other.” 

At this every head was bowed for a moment. 
When Mrs. Pangborn sat down, the girls sur- 
rounded Dorothy. 

Miss Higley ran to the piano and struck up the 
‘‘ Glenwood Reel.” 

“ Get your partners ! ” shouted Molly, while 
there was a wild scramble for “ another pair of 
hands,” everyone trying to get Dorothy, who had 


226 DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD 


already been taken possession of by Miss Crane. 

Tavia actually took her hat off when Edna 
caught her. Then the merry dance began, and 
such dancing! The old hall rang with mirth 
broken now and then with wild cheers when Dor- 
othy would “ go down the middle,” or “ swing all 
hands around.” 

There seemed to be no restrictions, no restraint 
— everyone was enjoying herself to her heart’s 
content. 

And the meeting all ended in the uproarious and 
unanimous election of Dorothy Dale, as president 
of the Glenwoods of Glenwood School 1 

“ What a happy ending of all our troubles,” 
said Dorothy to Tavia that night. 

“ If they are all ended,” responded Tavia. 
“ Perhaps everything is not yet smoothed out.” 
And what Tavia suspected proved true, as we shall 
learn in the next volume, to be called “ Dorothy 
Dale’s Great Secret.” Tavia was responsible for 
the secret, but Dorothy kept it faithfully. 

A few days later Mrs. Pangborn received a tele- 
gram that Mrs. Green was better and out of 
danger, — at least for the present. 

‘‘ Do you imagine Viola will come back to Glen- 
wood?” said Tavia. 


THE REAL STORY 


227 


“ If she does, I will — I will try to dd — my 
best by her,” answered Dorothy slowly. 

“You dear, forgiving Dorothy Dalel” cried 
her chum, and kissed her. 


-I 





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